


Whisper Just For Me

by TheMockingCrows



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Car Accidents, M/M, Medical Procedures, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Paranormal, Past Character Death, Possession, ghost boyfriend
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-15
Updated: 2018-01-19
Packaged: 2018-06-02 08:58:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 45,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6560161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMockingCrows/pseuds/TheMockingCrows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You, John Egbert, have a ghost in your apartment. You're positive there is one, and that he's a smart ass.</p><p>You're also positive you'd do almost anything to be able to keep talking to the blonde that dances at the edge of your vision, even if it meant pushing the boundaries of what you previously were so certain you understood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Contact

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr link: http://themockingcrows.tumblr.com/post/142833861392/whisper-just-for-me-ch-1-contact

    He was blonde. No mistake about it.

    The scant peeks out of the corner of your eyes has told you that much about him. At least.. you're pretty sure it's a him. It's not like you can just ask turn around and casually ask this flighty figment that might actually be in your head if your feeling, your assumption of his presence was correct. Things would get awkward rather fast if you suddenly went around asking your imaginary friends for details like that.

    Though, were you even really friends? It was more like you occasionally crossed paths, walking into a room just as the blonde vision was escaping from it in a blur. A whiff of something sweet on the breeze rushing out of a room in your face. A chill. The haunting sound of music and remixes of songs you'd just played earlier was just far enough to make you question if you'd really heard the smooth voice or if it was only a creation of your vivid imagination.

    Your dad was of no help in this discussion. He felt you were a little too old to still believe in ghosts, but never said as much outright. After all, you lived, breathed, and ate the study of spectrology and parapsychology and that wasn't exactly something that was going to disappear after nearly twenty years of absolute obsession.

    This ghost in your apartment, however, might. If you weren't careful about it, of course.

 

\----------

 

    He seemed skittish.

    You were fairly sure the specter was a human now, maybe even a teenager. It wasn't a residual haunting and reacted to your every move, and whenever you were in his presence it just screamed familiarity. That was eventually proven correct. Quite loudly, actually, into a hand held recorder.

    You'd been trying to get him to speak for months now, trying to make contact, hungry for information and conversation with the wispy being instead of just these sneak peeks. Bored out of your mind one evening, you delete the recordings of your own voice talking and asking questions to silence as the presence stubbornly refused to speak up, and try again.

    “Tell me your name.”

    A pause.

    “How old are you? How long have you lived here?”

    Another pause, to silence, as you stare at the hand held recorder in annoyance, then out around the room.

    “I know you're here, and I just want to talk with you! This is a dream come true at this point, having someone like you around. I've seen you a lot. I know you're here and watching me a lot, can't we just.. you know. Hang out?”

    More pausing, more silence, more lack of signs in the room that the ghost was listening. What a douche, playing hard to get! It made your heart pump faster, excited for the challenge. Maybe you had to earn that talk.

    You only manage a few more questions before impatience itches at your resolve enough to get you to stop and immediately check the tape. Your own voice plays back, more obnoxious than you remember sounding, and you hold your breath to listen closer.

 

  “ **Tell me your name?** ” you had asked.

    Softly, barely above a whisper, was a reply that made your heart race.

    … _.Dave...._

    Worrying your bottom lip, glancing around in case you could catch sight of the ghost even now, you strained your ears to hear the soft voice.

    “ **How old are you? How long have you lived here?”**

    … _... Eighteen......... Ages...._

    You're fairly sure your heart was going to explode. Oh, fuck, actual contact. Actual real life contact! Well. Real spectral contact, not real LIFE contact, it was jus- Oh FORGET the specifics, you'll work them out later! Excited to hear if hanging out was an option, you press your ear flat up against the speaker in preparation.

  “ **I know you're here, and I just want to talk with you! This is a dream come true at this point, having someone like you around. I've seen you a lot. I know you're here and watching me a lot, can't we just.. you know. Hang out?”**

    The sound that came ripping through your ear, hammering the eardrum till you worried it'd burst, was not a whisper but a shout.

_YES. YESYESYESYESYES._

 

    Cussing, you drop the recorder and lean back to rub at your aching ear and temple, whining miserably. Fucking A that was gonna hurt. Were you bleeding? You check your palm for traces of blood, every pulse of your blood ringing in your skull with a high pitched resonating whine to follow.

    “Oh, you little shit, that was so fucking rude! Holy... I COULD HAVE GONE DEAF, DAVE!”

 

    Dave. The ghost had a name now. He was Dave. You were sharing an apartment with someone named Dave, who apparently liked to play pranks as mean as yours could occasionally be.

 

    “...Dave,” you say again hesitantly, rolling the name around on your tongue, tasting it. You've never known anyone with that name before, but it sounded good. Simple, very to the point, solid.

    “Dave. I'd like to hang out with you. Like I said..? But I can't hang out unless I can see you,” you explain, slowly sitting up again to glance around. “I mean. I can keep asking questions, but considering I've already seen you before? Maybe we could try that?”

    No sign of the blonde hair out of the corner of your eyes, no chill breezes. Shit. Have you scared him off again with all the shouting?

    “...Please? Really. Dave, anything would be great,” you promise. “Maybe you can, like. Give me some kind of sign? Knock something over, maybe. NOT SOMETHING EXPENSIVE,” you tack on immediately, hands raised in warning. You weren't fucking made of money here, and this spirit was a prankster.

 

    You run your hand up through dark, messy hair, and breathe deeply a few times. Focus. Be professional, stop being such a paranormaboo!

 

    “Or, maybe instead, interact with me directly. Cold breeze, a touch. Tug my hair, or my clothes. Whatever you want, just go for it. The Egbert is your oyster,” you declare, raising both arms in display before glancing around the room again hopefully.

 

    The touch at your back is cold as ice and gentle. Barely there pressure. It split into two separate sources then and headed for either side of your waist. Hands? Dual contact points, prolonged contact, oh my god this is amazing. Who cares that the skin on your back feels like it's on fire from the cold? There was a fucking ghost touching you.

    Hugging you.

    The barely there touch had stopped moving when it was in a hugging position, a third point of contact resting at your upper back. You rack your brain trying to trace what the third pressure point would be. ...A second ghost? No. No.

    Was this spirit actually a spectral tentacle user?!

    No, that was too anime.

 

    … _... John......_

 

    The third point of contact was a head, a face, a mouth that moved at the same time you heard your name beside your ear. It sounded so far away, yet he was literally right there. How far, really, were you apart right now despite sitting in the same spot..?

    “...Dave?” you hesitantly whisper after wetting your lips, burning from irritating the few fresh cracks on their surface from being too dry. “Dave, I can hear you now. I can feel you. Keep going, I'm able to tell where you are.”

    … _... John......._

    His voice was softer now, tinged with exhaustion. One of the hands disappeared from your waist, followed soon by the other. Dave's face remained firmly against your upper back. Direct contact took so much energy out of spirits. This entire situation had to be so draining, you pitied him intensely. But your need for contact, for knowledge, was too strong.

    “Dave, you're fading. I can still feel you, I can hear you. Listen to me. Please, do this to me any time you want. Okay?” You swear the pressure against your back is lessening, the chill beginning to leave your flesh.

 

    “I'm serious. Any time you want. I don't even care if I'm sleeping. I want to hang you with you, I won't mind being bothered, just touch me any time you want. It's gotta be lonely not having anyone else here since I live alone, right?” you prod. “Promise me, Dave? We can keep hanging out?”

 

    The pressure leaves your back finally, icy skin growing flush with returning warmth, and your heart deflates a little. Dave was already gone, worn to his limit. Had you made it worse? Would he be back at all, or was that just.. the end. The singular contact with a ghost, or the best hallucination of your life.

    You reach for the recorder and flick it on.

 

    “Dave. ..Are you still there?” You pause for a moment. “Did you understand what I said earlier, about being fine with anything at all from you?”

 

    Another long pause before you blurt out, “I don't want to lose you so fast.”

 

    Where the fuck had that even come from??

 

    You turn the recorder to playback and listen closely.

 

    “ **Dave. ..Are you still there? ….... Did you understand what I said earlier, about being fine with anything at all from you?”**

 

    Complete silence, not even a hint of a whisper. You sigh in frustration and try to ignore the clench of misery in your stomach.

 

    “ **I don't want to lose you so fast.”**

 

    … _.... Always here..... for.... John..._

 

    Your smile sustains you through the evening and on into bed. You're mostly certain something brushes the hair away from your brow in the middle of the night, something chilly and barely there.

    Nothing but peace surrounds you.

 


	2. Witness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You have come further in adjusting to your resident ghost friend, Dave, but it’s nowhere near enough. To make progress, you need help, and for help you need someone else who believes you. 
> 
> Who better to believe you and offer the technical savvy you need to get closer to this ghostly resident than your cousin Jade?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr link: http://themockingcrows.tumblr.com/post/142973375597/whisper-just-for-me-ch-2-witness

     “No. Seriously, I'm not kidding. He lives here, and his name is Dave an-”

     “John, I listened to your recording, and I'm really not sure what it is I'm hearing,” Jade insisted. “It'd be one thing if you had a digital recording that didn't sound like you were just breathing into the mic yourself. Or, you know. Literally anything that could be transferred via USB to be analyzed like a common sense person would do? I thought you were a ghost hunter wannabe, how do I know more than you do about this.”

     Inviting your cousin over was a damn mistake, but it was too late to take it back now. She was a technical genius, had custom built your PC for you and when you had complained about upgrades she'd done for the laptop, she threatened to make you a Cereal Box Special and take both systems back so you could enjoy surfing the internet to the scent of Apple Jacks and depression.

     “Jade, really. He's here. His name is Dave an-”

     “I'm not deaf, John, just annoyed. There's no evidence to look over until you start using a better recorder. So, don't expect me to believe you've got a blonde hottie wandering around freeloading in your apartment until he starts paying rent, or shows up in person.”

 

     Jade helped herself to the lion's share of your bed, crashing back on cushions that were more solid to the back than her mounds of plushies with their oddly shaped heads and tentacles. Not to mention that your bed had a lovely blanket on it from your Nana's hard work in her younger years. She waited till you sat down on the foot of the bed to sit up and shift her thick ponytail over to her other shoulder, freeing her arm further to rustle inside her tote bag.

     A shiny new digital recorder rested in her hand, though it sadly seemed as if the Decora Kei effect of her nails this week had proven to be.. infectious.

     “Jade,” you sigh.“Really? Sparkly animals already? This looks brand new.”

     “It IS brand new.”

     “...The sparkledogs, Jade.”

     “I enhanced it. Don't question my commitment to decorations for things that I know will work. Now, look, this is important. This gets charged by your computer, or a USB adapter in a wall plug. Don't fry it by putting it in something crowded, takes a few hours to reach top. But bonus is you get a few HOURS of recording time if you want. No more deleting and playing back to save space.”

 

     Sparkly stickers or not, the device seemed perfect for what you needed: to talk to Dave more. You'll be able to have visible confirmation, actually get to see the waveforms of his voice instead of straining to hear the soft whispers.

     “Let me guess. You're bringing this because the program for the audio is already in my email?” you guess.

     “Ding ding ding, he can be taught!”

     Making a grabby gesture, you finally get to hold the recorder on your own and check the USB.

 

     “...Ssssso. Is it already charged?”

     Jade scoffs a bit and rolls her sharp green eyes before grinning.

     “Please! I know how impatient you are, I brought it with its initial charge. Those stickers went on while I was waiting,” she added while fishing out the matching USB cord and holding it out in offer to you. You take it with greedy hands, rubbing your thumb over the sharp edged plug ends with a grin.

     “Wanna try it out? Maybe you can hear him, then.”

     “...John. I'm really excited for you to be so excited again! Really! I mean, after the whole college thing kind o-”

 

     You grimace and raise a hand, shaking your head a bit. The subject was still a bit painful to talk about, too fresh. The load had gotten to be too much, and because you were so caught up in the Gotta you broke instead of stepping back to make the load easier. There was always next year or other attempts, other degrees. Right now, you had a job and were comfortable enough.

 

     “Jade, thanks, really, but. I'm fine. And I'm serious! He was so talkative before, I'm sure he'd love to talk to you too. I can even prove he's here before we try, if you want? I mean.. if he feels up to it,” you clarify. “He's not a performing monkey, and it takes a lot of energy to manifest, an-”

     Jade looked at you dubiously.

     “What, like. With a Ouija board or something? Those're kinda spooky.”

     “..Actually that's a great idea,” you muse, surprised you never thought of it. If done right, they were applicable sources for contact. Shaking your head, you regain your focus. “No, I mean like. General things. He might not be visible because it's draining, but he's done the cold breezes and hair tugging thing before. Dave even hugged me, when he talked to me. Remember how I told you?”

     She looks doubtful, but seeing you beaming and so alive has her finally smiling and nodding a bit. Pushing up from the cushions, Jade perches on the edge of your bed and toes her shoes off so she can wriggle her toes freely.

     “Okay, okay. Uh. How do we..?”

 

     Beaming, you set the recorder on your lap and look towards the corners of your room.

     “Dave? Someone's here to talk with you. She's my cousin, and she's a gigantic nerd who makes things and grows things.”

     “John!”

     You keep pushing on, trying not to laugh.

     “She's my cousin and she's really cool. She brought a new recorder for me, so we can talk easier. So it won't take so much out of you to speak with me! But.. we can't use it while she's here, unless you can show you're here somehow.”

     Your door creaked softly, and Jade was suddenly on edge, eyes wider. You can practically see the rationalizations fly by and falter till she's calm again.

     “Very funny, John, you're just winding me up. It's gonna take more than parlor tricks to make me believe whatever 'voice' we'll hear later.”

     Sighing, you watch the door, waiting for traces of Dave that you're used to. No sweet smells hit your nose, but the cold feeling in the air crept closer, the atmosphere heavy as if another were wandering around. Jade tensed her jaw beside you.

     “Do the same as before, if you can. The same as usual. Hair tugs, face touches. Tug clothing. Uh... Knock something over that isn't expensive or super fragile?” you rattle off. “I'd really like you to interact with Jade, so she believes me. Believes YOU.”

 

     Jade seems more tense than before now that the feeling of the room had changed, observations on high for the slightest twitch with a half dozen explanations to make it go away. It would have been so professional looking, if not for the sudden loud yip she let out before snatching her ponytail.

     “IT YANKED MY HAIR!”

     “The ghost's a he.”

     “HE YANKED MY HAIR!!”

     “Dave, did you yank Jade's hair?”

     “JOHN, I AM TELLING YOU, RIGHT HERE, THAT HE YANKED MY FUCKING HAIR! Just an fyi, maybe listen to the human being right beside you when they're shouting about hair yanking instead of asking the fucking ghost!” she shouted, tucking her knees up and growling softly to hide her ponytail from further damage.

     You frown a little, reaching over to touch her shoulder warmly before planting your hands on your own lap.

     “Hey, uh.. Dave, that was a good sign-”

     “MY ASS IT WAS A GOOD SIGN!!”

     “...Dave, that, uh. That was _a_ sign. But probably not the best one we could ask for. For Jade at least. You can tug my hair all you want, but she needs something else.” After a moment of thought, you finally ask, “Actually, what WOULD be a good sign for you? One that you'd believe?”

     “John, I'm not even sure. Seeing him would be amazing, but I doubt it'd happen. I don't want to be tugged at anymore, that was scary and it hurt! Breezes and thumps can be anything, this isn't a brand new apartment. So.. I don't even know what'd work.”

 

     Struck by an idea, you get up off the bed and go to rummage in your chest of old goodies from when you were a kid. Cards? No. Wand..? No, that's dumb. AH. You produce an old plush Squiddle that Jade herself had given you years ago, its bright eyes slightly off kilter and staring in two directions at once. The original toy had been wearing a fancy dress item, but with her best efforts, it had been removed and the thick knot of unable to be removed fabric connection points and seams had been covered with a dapper bow tie.

     ...It was a really nice bow tie, really. You never considered yourself a bow tie man, but that Squiddle doll had _style_.

     You set the toy in the middle of the floor before retreating to your computer chair, leaving Jade alone on the bed to watch as she continued to slowly decompress and release her deathgrip on her own hair. It took a lot to rustle Jade's jimmies properly, but once they were rustled, it was rough.

 

     “Think you can show her with the toy instead?” you ask, pausing to look way long enough to get your cellphone, ready to pop a picture with the camera to capture the moment if Dave managed to do anything. “Just.. nudge it, even. It's on flat ground, there's nothing touching it. Any movement of the squiddle would be great.

 

     …............ _weird …........_

 

     “What the fuck was that.”

     You bounce in your chair a bit.

     “That was Dave! I told you, you even heard him without a recording, that's fantastic! Thank you Dave. Let's just see if you ca-”

 

     You instinctively hammer your thumb on the shutter button three times in a row as soon as you hear Jade scream the first time. The Squiddle had lifted sharply, thrown up into the air before it fell in an arc towards Jade's position, bonking her safely on the head. She'd shuffled back and away from it, only to squawk a second time and take off running for the hallway rubbing at her face. She fled all the way to the living room before rubbing her arms and walking in circles, talking to herself about how NONE of this made sense.

 

     Heart in your throat, you chase after her and catch her up in a hug.

     “Hey! Hey, it's okay, it's nothing bad! He's been here for ages and I've never been hurt, see? He just did what we asked.”

     “I know! I know, just. John, first that thing moved all on its own and then my face was ice cold and I just. I had to get out of that room, it feels so much nicer out here,” she finally said, sighing deeply as she rubbed her arms. “That's. ….That's intense.”

     “Yeah. Heh. It's definitely not a normal Saturday kind of thing, huh.”

     “Even then though, do you know the implications of this? John, if. If this isn't some hallucination, this is proof of life after death. That wasn't a residual motion, that was something following orders. It's intelligent!”

     “He. He's intelligent,” you correct automatically. Why was it so upsetting to hear Dave referred to as anything other than himself? Maybe you were just being protective, because he pinged your Friend sensors in your brain, or maybe it was.. no. Definitely Friend sensors, of course you would be protective over a friend. “He's not a random ghosty ghoul, Jade, he's Dave. He's.. He's my friend.”

     “Yes, yes. Right. Dave's obviously intelligent, I doubt you'd harp about him so much. Or that.. Or that he'd follow instructions. I'm sorry, this is just. This shouldn't be a thing, and here we are with it being a thing and it's so-! Ohhhh, John, there's so much research to do. Try running that voice recorder now and then, and check the forms. Save all files. We can look into maybe researching this Dave guy, if we get more information.”

 

     Jade caught her breath and her pallor lessened, though she requested you be the one to go get her shoes and bag for her instead of returning on her own. You obliged, returning with the shoes in the bag and your right hand still in a death grip on your phone.

     “Hey,” she said suddenly while tucking her bag onto her shoulder, using you as a stabilizing pole to lean and put her shoes on. The girl was at least half head taller than you, but she had the leaning balance of an intoxicated moose. “I heard a shutter earlier. Was that you taking a picture, or was I hearing things again?”

     “Oh! Oh, shit, right. I took some as soon as I heard you scream, I wonder what I got..”

 

     You and your cousin both bristle at what was captured.

 

     The first picture showed the plush doll a few feet off the ground in its upward motion, along with a blurry, red tinged object just below it.

 

     The second showed the plush leaving Jade's head, her eyes wide and her mouth open during her screamed reaction. The red blur was still in frame, off to the side of Jade.

 

     The final shot was, if he had to time it, shortly before she lunged off the bed. The forward momentum wasn't there yet, but the urge to move was clear on her terrified face. Dave, the red blur, was clearer in this one. A slightly blurry outline of a boy's face could be seen right up by Jade's, lips pressed flat against the site the plushie had hit. Kissing it better.

 

     Jade made you put on shoes and leave with her immediately to go get lunch instead of continuing to stare at the pictures you'd captured. They were grainy, but clear enough for your uses as witnesses to back up the fact that, yes, someone was here. Dave was here. Dave had been there with them. There were some camera types and different basic equipment you needed to discuss, and compare notes on. If her promises were anything to go by, seeing Dave would be more common if she had anything to say about it, and you couldn't be happier.

     You were going to get to see your friend clearer, and your cousin believed in him.

 

     What a great day.

 


	3. Late Night Visit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While you and your cousin Jade spend time going over footage of your home, trying to get more images of Dave in order to try tracking down his origins, she brings up concerns about your being manipulated by something malevolent. Will a late night visit with your friendly ghost stay friendly? Or will it push into something more intense than you'd bargained for?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original tumblr post: http://themockingcrows.tumblr.com/post/143084778407/whisper-just-for-me-ch-3-late-night-visit

     Within a few months, you'd gotten your home rigged with cameras, and tried to find different setups that worked. Some sensed movement and would turn on only then. Others ran continuously once turned on, and saw in the dark. Others saw temperature readings, their captured images dark and patch-worked with orange and white whenever you walked through them. You ran them mostly when you weren't home out of curiosity to see what Dave was up to when you weren't around.

 

     What Dave was up to, apparently, was a lot.

 

     With Jade at your side, you'd sort through hours and hours of footage and isolate every instance of what could only be Dave making the most of his alone time. Things would be moved at random. Car keys, papers, books, clothes, odds and ends. You'd watch things lift from their tidy or messy origins and slowly drift though the air to another spot of the house. Every time you interacted with an object you knew for a fact he'd moved before, you'd get a shiver now.

     You could still remember his face against your back, his hands on your sides as he hugged you. He'd been a little shy about direct contact after scaring Jade half to death, and hadn't hugged you since, but the frequency of his activity had increased.

     The red wispy shape was seen a lot, sometimes orb-like and other times oblong and trailing when he moved as if he didn't even have proper legs. Rarest still, though, were a few shots of Dave fully visible. Still fuzzy at the edges, misty.. but definitely there, and staring towards the cameras, hungry for recognition.

 

     He was definitely blonde, pale enough it could be white, though his eyes were confusing. In the photos they looked bright red, glowing eerily, empty. Definitely had to be some kind of glitch of the photography. His face was young, thin with a pronounced sharp nose, limbs gangly to match his reedy frame and fast movements. ..There was no way he'd died of old age. This guy had to have died young somehow. Or if he HAD died naturally of old age, he must have been happiest or most active around that age.

     Jade frowned a bit and zoomed in best she could to analyze, trying to draw Dave out best she could for cross referencing in the future against leads as to his identity. Your cousin was no forensic sketch artist, but she could get the point across well enough. She had understood your demand that none of these images or recordings get out to the public.

     Getting to know Dave, keeping Dave safe, were what was most important. You sensed that he already knew how to go towards the light if he wanted to, but he had no desire to leave. He'd said he was always here for you.. but why? There was time to find out why, but if a ghost hunter came and did anything foolish, it might chase your friend away or cause him harm.

     The dead couldn't die again, obviously. But.. still. Double death was a scary concept that you didn't want to even joke about.

 

     “..John, his eyes are.. creepy. I can't tell if they're glowing just because he's dead, or if he's... y'know.”

     “No, I don't know. If he's what?” you ask, pausing in your fast forwarding of camera 3. Another trace of the red orb moving from the hallway to the bedroom and disappearing. No big deal, same old same old.

     “If he's... a demon or something,” Jade finally said, refusing to meet your eyes. “Before you even yell, I know! Just. Isn't that always a thing to watch out for? Being manipulated by a demon or some shit? I don't watch many scary movies, but I've listened to a lot of creepypasta readers while working when I wasn't in the mood for music, and that's always a trope!”

 

     Your look of deep, personal offense could peel paint off the walls from twenty feet.

 

     “JADE. He's not. Okay? Just. Trust me,” you insist. “I can't even begin to explain it, but there's no way Dave's anything but human. He's not bad. It... I'd have a better chance of believing YOU were evil somehow,” you say. “Which is to say: 0.0005%”

     “Why the five!”

     “...Well, nothing in life is 100% aside from death. So, obviously, some doubt has to remain as to you somehow actually being some evil harpy who only wishes ill on everyone.”

     “...Fair enough,” she grumps, going back to her sketching. “It still looks weird. I wonder what color his eyes actually are? If he was a demon, he'd be blending in great but doing a shit job at demoning. I mean, he kissed my head because of a plushie and apparently hugged you. Aren't demons supposed to do bad things?”

     “He's never done anything weird, really. He just likes touching my hair and moving my things around. Likes talking to me. I'm pretty sure I can see him near me when I wake up.. The cameras don't roll when I sleep, so I dunno if he's really there or not.”

 

     Jade looked up again and over towards your screen before focusing on your face.

 

     “You're not running them when you sleep?”

     “Well. No.”

     “Why? Wouldn't you want to know what he might be doing to you while you're sleeping?”

     You frown at her and shake your head. “No, not really,” you insist. “I already have cameras on while I'm gone, I want to give him some.. y'know. Privacy.”

     “Ghost privacy.”

     “Yes, ghost privacy. Jade, what if ghosts need to shower or something or sleep too. Maybe he does goofy things while I'm unconscious. I don't know, and I don't care. ..He lives here too, he deserves some peace.”

     “John, he's dead, how much more privacy do you need than spontaneous invisibility and apparently the ability to walk through walls?”

     “Oh. Actually, he's never done that,” you explain, putting the camera back into motion to finish out the footage. “Dave seems to focus on going through doors after they're open, or he opens them himself. He's never just walked on through anything.”

     “...Interesting. Huh. He doesn't seem to be wearing too badly dated clothes, either, if those are actually clothes and not just visual interference. Looks kinda like jeans and a t-shirt or something. Normal stuff. I didn't even really think of like, modern times hauntings. Every ghost story I hear about has been about people in fancy old clothes walking through walls or making people scream.”

 

     “Think that'll make it easier to find something out about him?” you ask hopefully. “He seems to know he's dead already, but.. has been kind of hesitant when I ask about it. He stops replying when I bring the topic up with the recorder running, or he'll make a sad sound, or ask another question instead of answering.”

     “Modern death would mean modern records, if it was something that was reported. But that's even only gonna work if it was something that happened here or near here.. Did you ever get a last name?”

     “Mm-mm. He's given me an S, but that's it. Refuses to give more, changes subject immediately. Same as asking why he's here or how he got here.”

     “..Maybe it was traumatic.”

     Your stomach aches just thinking about that, but you nod as you hit the end of the recording feed.

     “Okay, switching to camera.... five. Yeah, Camera five is good. He likes lurking in my room a lot.”

     “John, are you sure you don't want to leave a camera on in your room, even once?” Jade probed again. “I know you want to give him privacy, but. What if he's doing something creepy at night? What if he's so active and peppy because he's feeding off you or something?”

     “Jade! If anything, he's feeding from the electric feed on the cameras. ..Or maybe me, yeah,” you admit. “But it's not a bad amount, and it's not racking up crazy electric bills. Everything's fine,” you promise. “If it was ever a problem, I'd have said something about it.”

 

\- - - - -

 

     At least, you'd said that. You'd said you wanted to give Dave privacy, didn't care what he did at night. That you trusted him. Oh, you trusted your ghostly friend alright, knew he wouldn't hurt you. But anything beyond that..?

     You were dying of curiosity. What did Dave do when you were unconscious around him? Did he really just stare at you and guard your bed, like you think based on where he's standing when you creak your eyes open in the mornings? Does he drift over you? Does he move anything else around. Maybe he drifts close enough that there'd be ghost butt inches from your face and you'd never know. ..Or maybe. Just maybe. Maybe, Dave hugs you like he did that night, when you're not awake and needing to be aware he's going it.

 

     With the cameras off for the night, and you snug in your bed, you decided to try holding off sleep as long as you could to try catching him coming close. Maybe you could get more communication in with him manually if he saved energy from trying to be visible? It's worth a shot, you assume. Nothing to lose there.

     It took nearly an hour for anything to happen, the creak of your bedroom door soft and barely there in the dark, luring you further from the sleep you'd started to sink down into. He was there! It had to be Dave, how else would the door open? You try your hardest to stay still, breathing slow, listening close.

     Soft clinks and shuffles of items in your room moving as Dave interacted with them, nothing breaking or falling. It was like he was playing a little freer, or trying to get away with as much as possible while you were less likely to suddenly wake up and stop him.

     Soon enough though, the sounds stopped and the cold chill settled over your head and neck, the heavy feeling of a presence. Of someone watching you. With a shiver, you tried to focus where it was coming from, the pressure. ...Right beside you. It would be so easy to open your eyes, so easy to peek. Just not yet. Not yet! Wait a little longer!!

     … _..John.....awake......_

 

     Drat.

 

     Clearing your throat a bit, you worry your lip before speaking up.

     “I-... Hi, Dave. ...How are you? I, uh. ..Heh. I was wondering what happened at night in here. What you got up to, I mean. Is that okay?”

     You strain your ears into the silence, listening, focusing hard enough with your ears that it took a moment to register the pressure on your chest. Immediately you open your eyes, looking up, and your heart stutters with a threat to stop once you realize what you're seeing.

     Dave is perched on your torso, hands on your chest, pale face close and coming closer. His red eyes glowed in the darkness, skin misty and holding a faint glow all its own. The feeling of ice on your lips was intense enough to feel numb, slight tingles like sparks of electricity following shortly after, tickling your throat.

 

     Connect.

 

     Flashes in your mind like animated Polaroid pictures flashed by. Bright sunshine and green grass. Bomb pops melting off their stick, sticky lukewarm cola with a hit of cherry. Music with a steady bass line, easy to dance to or just nod along. Coils of electric cords and a whiff of overly hot summer air being moved lazily by a shoddy air conditioner. Were these... memories? Things Dave liked, or that he'd seen before? Why was he showing them to you now?

     Your head spins and you're back to yourself, eyes wide, focusing on the barely there outline of Dave's face as he pulls back from the kiss. You see him smile before fading out, though the pressure does not leave your chest.

     … _..sorry........no touch...._

     “N-no!” you stammer immediately, trying to prop up a bit onto your elbows. “Dave, it's okay! You can touch me. You always can touch me, I don't mind! I like it when you touch me!”

     Wait, that didn't come out quite right.

     The pressure of a hand traces up the side of your throat, ice cold and trailing soft tingles of electric shock, coming to rest at your jaw. You shiver harshly, face warming in response. Wow, that.. That was really intimate, wasn't it. Holy shit. Holy shit, this was really happening, wasn't it?

 

     … _.. can touch?......_

 

     Heart in your throat, your mind races. You just got fucking kissed by a ghost and he was asking if you were sure about being touched. How... how was he going to touch? And why? What was he possibly gaining out of this?

     Mostly, you found yourself wondering what it would feel like.

     Shyly, you finally nodded.

     “....Can touch.”

     Since there was nothing to see, and only pressure to focus on, you let your eyes stop straining against the dark as you lay back with a sigh, trying to calm. The pressure against your jaw goes lower, rustling at your shirt collar before lifting up beneath it, icy fingers feeling at your chest. They traced down your stomach, and when they went lower to your hips, you discovered something new.

 

     You couldn't move.

     Panic set in once you noticed a strange feeling of sleep paralysis, not realizing when it had begun for sure. Were you just dreaming? Was something wrong? You couldn't move, wasn't this when hallucinations were supposed to start, something terrifying and deadly hunting you?

     … _.john.... safe...._

     You heard the word, but panic still gripped you, this was not what you'd expected, this wasn't cute at all, this wasn't sexy, this was unknown and scary and you hiccup a breath before clenching your eyes shut as your mind screams NO NO NO NO NO.

     The pressure at your chest leaves, the heaviness falling from your limbs almost instantly. Able to control your muscles again, you sit bolt upright and rub at your throat, your face.

 

     “Dave! DAVE. Dave, was that you?!” you ask the darkness. “Please, tell me if that was you or not. Were you keeping me from moving. Was it something ELSE keeping me from moving? Dave, that was scary, was that you or something else?”

     Silence.

     Finally breathing slower, calm, you blindly grab for your phone from the side table and squint against the blinding light.

     2am on the dot. Fucking A..

 

     … _sorry.... safe...._

     The words were softer now even than before, though with the benefit of being right beside your ear. They sounded so... sad. Apologetic.

     “Y-yes, I am safe. I'm. Dave, I'm sorry, I know you weren't trying to scare me, I just thought-!”

     Thought he was actually evil, for the briefest of seconds. That he was going to hurt you. That you were no longer safe in your own home. Grumbling, you drop your phone to your lap and scrub at your face with the heels of your hands. Ohhh this was frustrating. Obviously he didn't want to hurt you, but that happening out of the blue was not pleasant.

 

     “...Can you touch me without making me freeze up like that? It. I didn't like that, if it was you. There was no warning, it was scary.”

     A cautious touch to your hair, another numb cheek and the press of what was surely the same lips as earlier. You lay back again and wait to see if you freeze up as the icy pressure of hands trail down your chest and stomach, rest on your hips.

     You don't lock up at all. Though, given the next spot that felt cold, you might as well have. Pressure and cold at your testicles, pressure and cold on your cock, faint crackles of electric kisses at the tip and tracing down towards the root. You swallow back a gasp and cover your own mouth before squirming, rising up onto the balls of your feet while moving your hips awkwardly.

 

     Your clothes were still on! This felt so fucking weird, your clothes were still on but those tingles felt... well. They felt really good, but so strange if you dared to focus on it enough. A ghost was playing with your tender bits and you could barely breathe. Slowly, you began to feel an erection starting up in response to the stimulation, and the hand covering your mouth went to cover your face instead.

     A fucking ghost was giving you a boner and fucking playing with it. Was this oral? What was happening. Oh, God, thank you for not deciding to put the cameras up before all this, past self. Totally wouldn't have been worth it, having to deal with your squirming self in bed.

     More cold touches down the insides of your thighs, the outside of your hips. Chilled pressure against your cock once it had eventually woken up all the way and rose to the challenge. It was like getting a blow job from someone who kept pausing to take sips of a slurpee or rolling a cube of ice around, occasionally touching it to your length.

 

     … _...John...._

     The sound was, somehow, still up against your ear. Soft, warm, familiar. It was as if two Dave's were toying with you, playing you like a harp. Two Dave's. Two's Dave's, real and touching you and whispering in your ears and-

     “Ah, fuck, Dave!” you cry before being able to stop yourself. Thank fuck, no cameras or recorders were running, thank fuck, thank _fuck_.

     You lasted as long as you did when you were still in puberty and desperate, embarrassingly. The inside of your pajama pants were sticky and too close now, hinting at a shower in the very near future. Heat radiated off your body as the pressure finally left and Dave withdrew, the atmosphere lighter, warmer.

     “....How am I even supposed to explain this to Jade.”

 

     You lay still till your heart stops trying to break your ribs and your body stops shivering. Wasn't this normally when you were supposed to cuddle with someone? Or get some kind of parting kiss? Anything? Being alone just made the entire experience more surreal.

     The bow tie Squiddle fell on your face without warning, tossed from the other side of the room, and you smiled at it, giving it a squeeze.

     It wasn't perfect. It was weird. It was _extremely_ weird, but.. It felt right.

     “Dave. ...Thank you.”

 

     You get no replies for the next week save for brief cold spots and occasional blips of a red orb trailing through the house.

 


	4. Fleeting Messages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Communication resuming, it's time to come clean about just how close you and your overly friendly spirit have become. The only problem is trying to figure out how to go about it without dying of embarrassment or having your cousin think you've lost your mind. ..Actually, the friendly ghost himself might make this entire process much harder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original tumblr link: http://themockingcrows.tumblr.com/post/143567326802/whisper-just-for-me-ch-4-fleeting-messages

Dave's patterns had changed significantly over the last few months. Usually, you noticed, after communication with Jade. She would come with guesses as to who he was while alive, sometimes throwing in much older people for kicks on the grounds that he may have just regressed to a youthful appearance upon death.

Neither of you made the rules about ghosts, maybe that was a thing.

Every guess got a reaction. The usual No was a thump, knock, or even the moving of the planchette for the board you finally broke down and bought earlier in the year. He had a ball with this thing usually, but.. it was hard to make him focus. With individual letters, Dave was more interested on making the tool swing wildly in what turned out to be long off topic sentences. He'd stop mid conversation to spell out words like 'Penis' and various forms of chat speak. Jade took the drops of lol and omfg as a sign he was definitely within a certain range of age, and not as gibberish, on a leap of faith.

It was interesting to try explaining to Jade why some of the comments sounded like flirting, though. Or why you'd make a point of looking away during certain responses being spelled out, or when images of the red orb practically touching your shoulder at certain times was brought up as proof of the spirit bonding to you.

Bonding was a bit of a step down from how you felt now. ..Though, you felt confused, too. Having Dave around was comforting, you always felt safe now. Even with the, uh.. closeness.. that had developed, you couldn't imagine him not being around. Wasn't that bad? Shouldn't you be wanting him to find the light and move on, to not be trapped in limbo?

 

“...ohn. John!” Jade snaps at you.

“Huh? What? Jeeze, relax, sorry. I just drifted a bit,” you assure her, rubbing the side of your head idly.

“A bit? Yeahhhh, I'm TOTALLY believing you were only drifting bit. Did you even hear anything I was saying? Dave's better at listening to me than you are, and he's dead.”

The planchette scratched across the board nearby to an L and froze, shorthand for laughter.

“Okay, maybe. Probabl- yeah you caught me, I wasn't paying attention,” you murmur, watching the board closely. “Run it by me one more time?”

“I was thinking of offering him more direct communication instead of having to physically move objects. That's got to be tiring, still.. and I've been trying to do some research. I saw on shows that there's these systems that have entire dictionaries loaded onto them, so spirits can choose words and make sentences. We haven't had as much luck with audio lately, but that could also just be the fact that we're not really using that sensitive of an audio capture.”

“...I thought the machine worked well,” you say with a frown. “I mean, we can hear him just fine.”

“I mean that the microphone is shit, John,” Jade said plainly. She slouched to one side to rummage in her pocket for a few hair ties, starting to separate her hair out for some braiding that she soon roped you into helping with. The repetition was soothing, and with the bonus of it keeping your cousin cooler in the heat, you were all for it. “You need a more sensitive one, we'll be able to hear better.”

“Uh huh.”

“Otherwise, I was thinking about older things mixed with new things? What if we like, gave him emoji's to access!” she offered brightly. You make an unimpressed face.

“No.”

“Oh John, come on. Other things're like, automatic writing. But you'd have to be comfortable being influenced by Dave or touched by him.”

 

Your face flames up to your ears and your stomach twists anxiously. What if she knew. How could she know?? There's no way she could know. NO. WAY.

 

“John? Are you comfortable with that? I mean, it'd be so weird to have a ghost touch you.”

“YES. I. No. Yes, I'm fine. It sounds.... neato.”

Jade stops braiding to look at you with a raised brow.

“...Neato.”

“Yes. Neato. I can use it in a sentence if you want, Officer.”

 

She frowns softly and leaves her hair to loosely un-braid itself, turning to grasp your hands tight despite complaint about her interrupting what you were doing.

“John.. Really, what's up? You've been acting kind of weird lately. Any time we catch Dave near you or talk about physical interaction you wig out. ...Did he hurt you?” Jade asks, voice taking on a harder edge. “Because if he DID, I know a certain ghost who's going to be seeing a LOT OF LIGHT.”

“No! No, he didn't hurt me at all!”

“Are you sure? You're not just tying to protect him because you like him?” Jade pressed.

“No, really. It's. ...Jade is it possible for ghosts to show emotions? Are emotions a thing after death?” you finally blab, trying your best to look terribly serious while all the focus was on you.

“I. What?? Emotions. Like what?” Jade asked, grip loosening on your hands. “There's apparently cases of angry ghosts that are different from poltergeists who want to try to harm people, and.. Cases of ghosts crying or screaming? But I think that kind is usually a repeating type.”

 

You knew that. You already knew these things, had your own opinions for years, but hearing Jade talk to you about it made it feel more real and accessible instead of just second and third hand accounts and literature. Make it much more tangible. Believable, considering she'd done her own research. You nod, letting off a soft hum of understanding to show you were listening.

 

Jade's grip releases you finally, two warm hands raising to cup either side of your face as she coaxed her thumbs along the upper edges of your cheekbones.

“.. John. You say he's not hurting you, but then you ask stuff like this. Are you worried? Is he giving you a sense that he's.. I dunno. Sad? Angry?”

“It's. ...Jade, I think he's in love with me,” you say in a rush before you can regret it. “I might be completely wrong, maybe he's just playing with me. But. What do you think of the chance of that?”

“John, I don-”

“Jade, I'm being serious here! This isn't some dumb question like trying to figure out if your cactus has feelings, it's a person!!”

“JOHN. Rude! Percival has all the feelings! I've got ranges of data collected over years, and once I find a way to communicate, I'll-!”

 

You moan in frustration and reach up to grab her hands upon your cheeks, squeezing her fingers tight.  
  
“Jade, focus, please. Listen to me. I have reason to believe he's in love with me, or VERY attached in either case. And I. ...I wanted to know if that was possible or just me.”

Jade frowned at you, looking a bit worried.

“I'm not.. John, I think maybe we should slow down with this stuff. Or stop, even. Maybe you should go visit your dad for a while or stay with me for a while to clear your head.”

You release her hands and start to lean back, anxious, worried you should have just left things quiet.

“No, I'm fine, really! I don't need time out, I'm fine, this is my home. I was just wondering!”

 

Jade flicks her heavy hair over her shoulder and shakes her head to get the tresses to lay flat before focusing on the board. She reaches for the planchette and rests her fingertips on it.

“Dave. I know you can hear me, and I know you're probably nearby. ...Are you? With John. Do you have feelings for him,” she demands, ready and waiting, ignoring your indignant protests. “Are you trying to influence him? Hurt him?”

“Jade, he can't answer if you do so many questions in a row, how would he know what to respond to? You have to be patient. Better yet, why not just not ask those questions in the first place? Yeah? Great idea, right? I know, it's amazing!” you say as you rise to stand and reach, trying to scoot her hands away from the planchette. She fights you, leaning further and further to one side as you crawl on top of her, trying to make her remove her hands entirely.

“Augh, John, get off! You're squashing me!” she cries, but your cousin finally releases the planchette.

“Not till you're for sure not going to ask that again! I was just asking in general, not.... not specifically! If I was going to ask something like that to Dave, I'd. ...I'd ask more privately.”

“Well, you didn't apparently, you asked ME. And you're kind of starting to sound a bit nutty!”

“But what if he actually does feel something towards me! How weird would that be? What should I even do about that? THAT'S what I was trying to ask you, to see how to proceed!”

“John, you have the emotional development of a ham sandwich, why do you think I know how to offer you romantic advice with people, let alone with a GHOST? I don't know if he's gone some ecto-crush on you or whatever! I've never heard of emotions in cases except for existing couples being separated by death!”

 

The planchette started to scoot slowly around the board, spelling, but neither of you were paying attention. By the time you looked up and stopped squishing your cousin to start tracking the letters, your face was already on fire.

 

_A-L-W-A-Y-S-F-O-R-J-O-H-N-M-I-N-E_

 

“... Okay, so. Is this what he's been saying that's got you so flustered?” Jade asked you.

 

_S-O-F-T_

 

“Is... that?” she said next, cheeks coloring pink. “I mean, we have caught images of him touching your shoulder and back, so..”

 

_M-O-A-N_

 

Her pink cheeks went crimson and she stared at you, brows raising high, mouth open to ask questions.

 

_G-O-R-G-E-O-U-S-M-I-N-E-A-L-W-A-Y-S_

 

You wished to die, wanted to implode on the spot as you let out a high pitched moan of frustration.

“Dave, Dave, shut up! SHUT UP! That's-! No, shut up, stop stop stop, not in front of Jade, just talk to me later about it okay?” you beg, but Jade is quick to perk up while he's so busy spelling and tormenting you.

“Dave! Tell us something important about you!”

 

_A-L-W-A-Y-S-J-O-H-N-S-O-F-T-M-I-N-E-J-O-H-N_

 

“No, about YOU.”

 

_S-T-R-I-D-E-R_

 

You take the new word, what you think might be a name, and keep it with you while you go to Jade's for the rest of the week to clear your head and come clean about what had happened that night with Dave. She demands all the details and you spill over copious drinks and junk food. She returns to planning for more sensitive equipment that she can either find a way to purchase or cobble together on her own from existing parts to make a better version of. It wasn't rocket science, and even if it were, she had your back. You return home to turn the cameras on, leaving them to record, before spending another few days with your father.

Traces of Dave are seen in every room of your home when you re-watch the tape, especially around your desk, closet, and bed. You swear you can see him lying there at least a half dozen times, partly visible. Your pillow is indented when you return, and most of your belongings have been moved by unseen hands. Your neighbors let you know that someone had been in your home while you were out, an attractive blonde with a thin face and pronounced nose staring out from your windows, and ask when you got the strange new roomie.

You don't have the heart to tell them he'd been there longer than you had.

 


	5. Attachments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Puzzling out who Dave was is proving complicated the longer you continue hunting. Puzzling out who he is to you now? Not that complex. You and your ghostly boyfriend keep finding red tape in your way, but hopefully you can find your way through it to a more thorough comprehension. Maybe all you need is.. a bit more outside assistance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original tumblr link: http://themockingcrows.tumblr.com/post/145387681672/whisper-just-for-me-ch-5-attachments

“There was a Strider who lived here in the 80's, but he wasn't named Dave that I can see. The name listed for the lease was for a Broderick Strider,” Jade said as she lay on your floor, flicking down her phone with her thumb to read the saved files. “His name was on the lease for two years, but then seems to have moved with no forwarding address.”

 

“Did he really move?” you asked. “Maybe he was just renting it but someone else was living here?”

 

“What, like a sub-lease?”

 

“Yeah, I guess. Or maybe a temporary home. Maybe family? Why would someone move without a forwarding address?” you prod. A knock at the door made you pause with a soft 'oh' and rise to your feet to go answer. The pizzas you'd ordered earlier had finally arrived with much pomp and circumstance, bread sticks and sodas aplenty. Instead of going to the kitchen, you brought the burden into the room with you to devour. You pause for a step, playfully kick Jade in the ass, and then continue on past her with your calorie ridden burden to heap on the floor.

 

The seasons were changing, air cold on your skin and turning your breath to a smoker's halo when you went outside, but you couldn't bring yourself to actually start bundling up yet. You'd rather risk sore throats and stuffy noses running around being a chilly heathen than wear a scarf or zip up your jacket. What's the fun in that? You live on your own now! Leave the jacket unzipped, be the rebel, it is you! Warm pizza in a cool house had to be some kind of special autumn gift, really.

 

Jade army crawled towards the boxes before sitting upright, lording over the bread sticks while you cracked right into the pepperoni, blowing the steam that rushed up from the slice in the crisp air till it curled and spiraled invitingly. When you went to take a bite, the steam suddenly kicked back in your face, fogging your glasses.

 

“Ha-fucking-ha, Dave, come on. Let me eat.”

 

“You think he ever misses eating?” Jade asked, cracking open a dipping sauce and swirling the stick, staring when her hands were nudged. “..Huh. Okay. I'll take that as a yes. Could you maybe not with the hand touching though, Dave? I don't like when my hands are that cold.”

 

So much time had passed since you first recruited your cousin into believing in your ghost friend that this was just.. normal now. It was always you, and her, and Dave. Every time you went out, you knew that Dave would be waiting for your return, eager to talk and interaction. Every night when you went to sleep, you were sure to feel the same cold, soft press to your cheek or shoulder for a kiss goodnight. You occasionally went on what you were fairly sure were casual dates during the day in hindsight, but never pursued them further than that.

 

What would be the point, especially if you didn't realize they were dates at first? If you didn't feel a draw or feel the same, you were worried about accidentally leading someone on. Romance wasn't your forte anyway, it was confusing and lately you were.. distracted. Nothing caught your attention as much as your local haunt, and warmth wasn't nearly as entrancing as the crisp chill you associated with Dave.

 

You had comfort and interaction at home already, waiting for you, always rapt with attention to listen to your day. Occasionally, too, eager to touch you in fairly lewd ways. Jade never asked about missing footage or why the cameras had been turned off at random. She DID however start to tease you about incorporeal shenanigans when the frequency picked up.

 

Embarrassing as it was, you were excited with how frequently Dave wanted to interact physically. It was something taboo, something not talked about in paranormal circles and even then hotly debated as a simple possibility. It made the times more private, more personal. There was no outside influence tainting your mind or giving you preconceptions in the slightest: it was all you and Dave.

 

….. _sorry_....

 

“It's okay, Dave,” Jade promised. “.. Are you sure you're not going to stop playing difficult and help us hunt down information on you?”

 

The pizza box thumped shut before jangling its contents, no doubt spreading cheese and toppings around the interior to a degree.

 

“Hey, hey!” you cry. “Easy on the pizza, Dave, that's important! Jade, c'mon, he's gotten really moody literally every time you ask that, spare my dinner would you?”

 

She rolls her bright eyes at you but continues eating undisturbed.

 

“Well, can you blame me for asking? It took a LOT of digging to even find that hit on Broderick, let along to try finding more about any Strider in this area. It's like they just.. don't exist. Are we even sure he's haunting HERE? Or is he just haunting YOU?”

 

“... Ghosts can haunt people?”

 

“Well. That's possession in half of cases, it looks like?” she says, pausing to lick garlic butter from her fingers. “But there is spirit attachment too. Like in cases where people have a bad spirit and move, but the bad spirit follows to the new place? They key in on individual people. It's like.. when someone knows your IP address and can track you down, I guess. There's also the haunted items thing, but you said that Dave's always been around since you moved in?”

 

You nod, lean back to continue eating, and cast your eyes around the room. Once Dave started getting huffy, he usually started moving things more often, and while he wasn't outright destructive his flapping and flailing could get a little messy if the wrong thing got knocked over by mistake. He could knock things, but not catch them apparently.

 

That, or he just decided he didn't WANT to catch them. The brat.

 

“Yeah, I didn't notice him till I moved in. If he was attached to any of my things, or me, I'd.. I dunno. Kind of assume I'd have noticed a literal GHOST around me, especially when I was so obsessed as a kid. Either that or he haunted the local Target since most of my junk came from there or from home when I moved in.”

 

Jade rolled to her side and scooped up her phone again, doing some more internet searching. She'd parsed through more dubious paranormal themed websites in the last several months than she'd ever admit to in public or even mostly in private. Awkward, obviously fake spells for dubious magic work complete with typos ran alongside Creepypastas, but were speckled with enough similar ideas to the stories before and after that it gave more hints on where to look next.

 

...Some of it was actually pretty interesting, if she suspended belief in science long enough. The rest of the time, she'd much rather stick to the theories and facts that had proof beyond faith.

 

You still refused to let her contact outsiders about Dave, for easy to understand reasons. But oh, God, you could tell when Jade got the itch to compare notes with other people for the purpose of corroborating her hypotheses and gained information. So many tests, so many pictures, folders and folders of proof.. that you were going to stubbornly sit on.

 

“...Have you ever thought of trying to GET him attached to something?” she asked then. “Like. Binding him, or trying to act as a base for him?”

 

“Why would I do that if he already is attached to the apartment?” you ask, frowning. “Sounds like work.”

 

“It would be work, yeah, but think of the implications! If it was successful, Dave wouldn't be bound to the apartment anymore. He could, theoretically, travel with you. Or in general. It'd be useful to get him to move on someday as well, if time came and he was ready. Being trapped in a building has to get exhausting on the mind.. I'd be going stir crazy!”

 

You consider this. Taking Dave along during the day somewhere would be.. kinda neat, actually. Would he behave, though? Would taking him along outside make you wish for a spirit-capable child leash to keep him from being a poltergeist everywhere you went? Or would you rather keep him.. just that much closer.

 

“..How.. would someone go about doing that,” you hesitantly ask, reaching for a bread stick and fencing Jade a little when she got another slice. You keep forgetting just how much food she could really go through, but chalk it up to her brain running so hard and fast that her body gets bad gas mileage. “Would having a spirit attachment hurt?”

 

“Whoa, jumping the gun a bit huh?” Jade said with a self satisfied grin. “Here I thought you'd want to ease in, be fickle, try out attaching him to an item. It'd be smarter to do that, really. Safer. ..You wouldn't run that risk of being tired all the time. And if this Dave Strider, if that's really his name, is actually a demon.. then. Well. It's way easier to throw a necklace away and run than to try removing something from inside yourself.”

 

“Not to even mention if anything changed..”

 

“What would be changing?” she asked, fishing for cheese briefly, balancing the slice better with both hands then. “Ohhh, you mean like the whole creepy ghost boyfriend angle, huh. Yeah, it'd be kinda hard to suddenly go 'whoops I'm not into ghost boners and kinky shit out of Paranormal Activity Triple-X anymore, can you please disappear now?' if you had a full bond thing going on.”

 

Dave flipped a book off the shelf, let it bounce twice in the air, then allowed it to flop directly on top of the pizza stack with a solid WHUMP upon impact. Toppings were definitely going to be stuck to the cardboard now. Damn it.

 

“Dave! Come on, that's supposed to last all night, don't make a mess!”

 

Another book, this time aimed for the soda bottles, stirring up a heavy foam inside the still firmly shut containers. One of the bottles lifted shortly after, wobbling from the weight of it, looking as if the cap was going to be removed. You yelp and scramble to cover the cap, fighting to keep it closed.

 

“Hey, whoa, no no no no not in here, there's WAY too many things that'd get sprayed! I don't wanna get all sticky! I DON'T WANT ANTS!” you cry through the struggle, fighting with the unseen force. Dave releases the bottle at your protests, leaving you to fall flat on your back from the force you'd been exerting, bottle clutched in your hands.

 

“Huh. I wonder what part got him so riled up? The idea of you suddenly not being comfortable with playing at dating anymore, or the getting rid of him?” Jade wonders, lifting her camera to take a few pictures, wondering what would show up in them this time. She flicked the flash across the room a few times, towards the pizza box, and back towards John before taking a selfie.

 

Dave's red orb appeared in half of them, traces of fog and pale haze in others, the out of focus deformity of a badly captured moving face near John's shoulder. Nothing in front of herself. She smiled and uploaded the picture as a status update after deciding it looked cute and added some flower doodles and dog ears.

 

There. Much better.

 

“Probably all of it, Jade. Same as always. ..But. Back to what you were saying?” You gesture with your hand, try to whip up some of the magical sounding conversation from earlier. You've always loved magic, even if you knew facts were facts.. there would always be a part of you that wondered if there was ever going to be a rabbit randomly in any hat you picked up and wished on hard enough. “Is there anything specific that really comes to mind for trying to get an attachment on purpose?”

 

“You mean aside from wiggling your hips, opening your arms and going 'I'M HERE!' to all the spirits that be? ...Yeah, there's some things, I guess. Take them with a grain of salt, though, I'm not about to look into any 'rituals' or any of that junk.”

 

You pause briefly, smack yourself on the forehead.

 

“Jade, we're morons.”

 

“You are, you.”

 

“JADE. No, seriously, you are too right now! Why don't we ask Rose about that?” you say more than a little excitedly. “She's into all that outer god stuff right?”

 

“She's into damn near everything inside and outside of cult involvement, I'm fairly sure, but I've got no idea if the things she knows are... safe. Or if they'd work on a human spirit instead of the formless globules of the creatures beyond the abyss,” Jade said, sighing. “Are you sure you want to get her more involved? The more people you tell, the higher the risk of word getting out.”

 

“Jade, just flirt with her or something, God, it's not that hard,” you say, leaning back to get comfortable again while she sputtered, cheeks red. “She's the closest we have to a professional on occult stuff that CAN'T be verified by science or measured in any way. It's a direction we haven't really gone before. She might know more, now that we have ways of tracking and listening and seeing Dave.”

 

Jade fidgeted a bit. Admitting to lack of knowledge was something she HATED doing, but.. in this case, defeat had to be admitted. You were correct. Rose LaLonde would be a hell of an ace up the sleeve in their experiments, and would probably know the proper ways to keep everything safe. Remove variables.

 

“..I'll see if I can ask her,” Jade says quietly.

 

You feel a breath of chill behind your ear, soft murmuring from Dave, hard to focus on.

 

… _be careful_...

 


	6. Recognition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haunting John Egbert is a thrill and a half, but sometimes being trapped in the same place gets a bit old. There's all kinds of places you wish you could see and things you wish you could do, dead or not, but being bound to a single building space is holding you back. When Rose is summoned by John and Jade to help sort or their questions, you're not sure what to expect. When she mentions a way to make John being able to see you, feel you, touch you.. well. What could be better than that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original tumblr post: http://themockingcrows.tumblr.com/post/147217368627/whisper-just-for-me-ch-6-recognition

She wasn't at all what you were expecting. Platinum hair on the screen, messy and out of order as if she'd been caught out in the coming rains and rushed back to business without stopping to so much as dry off. She was attractive, she was far from soft spoken the way she spoke with Jade. But that wasn't what bothered you so much.

It was her eyes. No matter where you moved, those violet eyes kept staring and staring, intent as a cat upon a mouse. She'd smile now and then when she realized you'd caught on to her observant stare, give you time to move out of direct line of sight. Yet soon as you came back, she'd be right there again.

Rose LaLonde could see you, even through the screen, and you couldn't explain why.

It wasn't the... what was it. The Skype thing. John and Jade were chattering away in their own rights with the young woman, no hesitation, bright and full of joy. Jade's cheeks were bright and warm, and John looked torn between shy and embarrassed over the situation, even when he looked the wrong direction to introduce you.

 

“And this is Dave!” he said brightly. No. No, John, that was not an kind of Dave, that was a bookshelf. Nice try though champ. You couldn't blame him though, you weren't exactly being that visible right now, knocking shit around took some oomph and you always needed to recover before doing more.

“Ah. Dave, there you are,” Rose said, focusing in on where you really were, drifting behind John's left shoulder. “I hope this evening is finding you well?”

 

…. _why are you talking to me_... ?

 

“I'm talking to you because you're there, Dave. Why would I NOT talk to you? It would be rude.”

 

John was amazed, glancing around for where Rose was focusing until you reached out and stroked his arm to give him a hint. He was so close to looking right at you, even if he would just be looking through you, that it made you smile. Interaction was wonderful, you'd do anything to have him see you clearly without exhausting yourself. Dreams were nice, you could do some fantastic things when he was relaxed and half awake, but damn was it nowhere near the same.

 

“I knew you'd be great for helping us, Rose, but I didn't expect you to be able to see him without being here in person, much less at all! Is he doing something extra visible for you? Or embarrassing for me? He seems to really like doing that for some reason,” John babbled, reaching his hand out into the space where you were, passing through your abdomen. It was contact again, brief as it was for the strange cold spot he was feeling in the air, but nowhere near enough for your wants. Being incorporeal was really a pain in the ass sometimes.

“Not that I can see, John, but I'd recommend against further slapping through his stomach? It seems a bit awkward to repeatedly enforce non-solid boundaries.”

“Well, it's not like I can actually touch him, Rose..”

“Would you want to be able to?”

 

You perk up at her words, surge forwards so fast you almost topple the laptop onto its back, Jade crying out and leaning forward to stabilize it. Was it possible? Was it really, truly possible? Was that actually something that could be done, even though they were technically existing on separate planes? You'd heard Jade talk about binding so you could travel with John outside of this place, but CONTACT! Oh, sweet contact!

 

…. _tell me how TELL ME HOW_ …

 

Rose smiled.

 

“I don't know entirely how possible it is since it's such an individual thing,” she explained, cutting John off before he could answer to reply to you instead. It was a dizzying feeling, being given preference for a response instead of having to wait for playback of John or Jade's recorder, being spoken to, spoken WITH. “But there ARE ways of becoming more in tune with the spirit world, like myself. I mean 'touch' more in the range of being able to see clearer and actually touching the right space instead of open air. Being able to feel chill, or a sense of electricity. You'd use less energy to be seen by him and communicate more directly.”

John looked enthused, Jade looked doubtful, and Rose looked like she was ready to giggle when you jumped at the laptop again and successfully knocked it over before going over to the few toys in the room to jump around with it excitedly.

It wasn't much. It really wasn't much at all to work on but hope, but it was more than you'd had in a while from a new face.

 

… _tell them how tell John tell him tell him tell me tellMETELLME_ …

 

“Easy now,” Rose said softly, Jade and John caught up in giggles as they watched the toy bounce around in mid-air, a nice break from you knocking expensive things around willy nilly. “John. Are you willing to put forth actual effort to do this? It's not something you can just undo, either. Once you open yourself, you're open. That's it. The door can only be guarded and kept in check, but it can never be closed again.”

 

Jade looked worried.

 

“.. John, really think about this before you answer. The binding Dave to an item thing would at least give you a way out if something went wrong or he turns on you.”

 

You throw the plush at the back of her head as hard as you can manage. Ex-fucking-cuse her, John would have a fantastic time if he allowed you to tag along with his daily life, especially if he could interact with him physically more. ...Oh, wow, would that mean the intimate times would be even more potent to experience? You settled down, made the plush rock back and forth pensively. Wow. Okay. Stay calm, let them talk.

Hope John makes the best choice possible.

 

“Well. Yeah, I'd do that,” he said after a moment, looking to Jade with a grin. “Dave's not the only ghost I've ever wanted to talk to: he's just the only one that's ever gotten close to me and been important. If I'm going to learn how to be open and how to close off on purpose, won't that actually be better in the long run even if he WAS bad news? I'd know how to make him leave me alone then, Jade. I don't see this as a bad thing.”

“You can't just turn it off like a switch, John, it'll be there forever unless you go out of your way to consciously block things off day after day,” Rose warned. “I've taken to calling the shadows that lurk in my own home after the three stooges. They're a strange bunch, but they're just.. there. Being fairly silly, really,” Rose confided. “Larry is really the best though.”

“... I'm more of a Moe guy,” John said with a straight face. “But. You've got ghosts at home too? Why didn't you tell me, Rose, I would've been all over investigating that!”

“Because they're not ghosts, so I didn't tell you. I said they're shadows, John. Shadow people are very different from ghosts, they're nothing alike at their core. They've very sweet though, I've lucked out at having mostly gentle things on my property.”

 

Rose's family had always been quite well off what with her mother being such a genius in her field and constantly being dragged around to perform lectures and to teach new techniques to fascinated students and practicing professionals alike. Her stance of Talk Shit Get Hit had set her aside in any lab she walked into, the classy martinis on the table alongside gallons of coffee while she worked, data of far off points in space stacking up in the external hard drives.

The LaLonde home was a gorgeous place, but Rose had wanted her own space after college started. While she apartment hunted, her mother brought home real estate pamphlets. When Rose said maybe a small, simple home to start with, her mother looked into multi-bedroom homes with sprawling gardens. Rose found a place that needed work but was well over two hundred years old, with a garden that she'd need to bring back to life and tame on her own. Her mother signed off on it with further threats of an incoming greenhouse.

Of course Rose's house would have ghosts, look how old it was!

 

“.. I'm still kind of astounded you don't have ghosts,” Jade said. “Shadows though? Are you sure just shadows? Shadows of WHAT? I've felt cold in your place, but I just assumed it was drafty in there.”

“Shadows are their own thing, Jade, you said you'd researched. They're different from ghosts though so.. maybe they were only mentioned in passing,” she hummed. “They're not ALL nice. There are some fairly malevolent ones. But still.”

 

John leaned forward in front of you, getting himself more in frame of the camera.  
  
“Rose. Back to the topic though? I said I'd be okay with learning more about.. being open to ghosts or whatever. Can you teach me then? Should I not bind Dave to anything then?”

“Oh, no, binding him to something would still be a nice idea,” Rose admitted. “Just.. please pick something you'd be very careful with and not lose. A sturdy necklace, or a statuette, anything he might like or that you could stuff in a backpack, or pocket, or keep on your own body. Don't do keychains or pins, they fall off easily without being noticed and wear out fairly fast.”

“Why though? If I'll be seeing him better.”

“Wouldn't you get bored of being stuck in the same spot for however many years in a row? Never able to leave?” she asked. You smile at the idea of being able to leave again, to GO places. The view from the window looked so different already, so much land development had happened and the neighborhood had changed, what did the city look like? What did anywhere look like anymore beyond the reaches of this space? Rose's grin turned to a faint smirk. “Consider the implications of being able to go on a date with him, technically.”

 

John's ears ran red and he glanced back towards you, using Rose's glance as a point of focus. Wherever she was looking that wasn't himself or Jade was surely you, right?

 

“..Well. I mean, we wouldn't be able to eat or anything. It'd be kind of weird.”

“You can eat easily, John, and as you get more sensitive you'll be able to talk. Even if it's you writing things and him answering aloud. You could go to movies and bring an awkward cold spot into the theater, make people wear their jackets. Hell, take him to work if you want. There's the bonus of if you ever move, or if an emergency happens, that bound item can be returned to your side to keep the bond open. He'd not be trapped into it forever, per say. More of like.. those little carriers you transport hamsters or rodents in between cage cleanings. They don't live in there, it's for going between places. Dave would be able to stay in the thing, but eventually be able to become attached to the new home as well.”

“Ohhhh like following haunts?” John asked, perking up when it sounded all the more familiar, something clicking in his head. “I've read about those, people flee a haunted as fuck house and the ghost turns up hundreds of miles away. ..Because THEY were haunted!” he said, holding his hands limply before himself for a spooky pose.

Jade flipped her long hair forward over herself, mirroring John's pose.

“Maybe they watched the wrong movie~?”

“Nobody watches VHS anymore Jade, come on.”

“Haunted DVD's.”

“You're a haunted DVD.”

“Children, am I going to have to put you in time out and keep talking with Dave while you sit and think about what you've done?” Rose said with a flat tone, leaned back from her camera to pick up what you think might be a set of knitting needles, working over a length of brightly colored yarn till she was cast on along nearly the length of the first one.

 

You turned and swooped around John's belongings, rummaging, gently jostling things to try finding something that maybe they could use in the future to travel together. Something he could focus on and enjoy, want to park his ass inside of for trips. Ghost walkies. The idea made your lips curl, the grin growing when you accidentally jostled some books too hard and they fell to the ground, making everyone flinch in surprise.

Being a ghost was actually kind of fun sometimes, when you could control attention even from people who couldn't normally see you. Knock shit over, get attention your way. Get looked at, the way Rose looked at him through the screen. The way John might be looking at your in the near future if you were lucky and this training Rose spoke of would actually work, actually let him see you, hear you, maybe even touch you more. Something he could touch. ..something he could wear, keep on his body, let you touch him more often. Oh, God, what kind of noises would John make if you touched him while you were outside? Interrupt him waiting in line for something with a fond trailing of icy fingers up his thigh, kisses to his neck, maybe even more if it got him hot and bothered enough to escape somewhere private..

You knew it before you even saw it, a fairly plain pendant with a complex pattern in green on it, strung by a cord. A delicate spirograph in lime green, appealing to your eyes and the right kind of weighty that it would likely be comfortable wear all the time. Something that could touch skin and be hidden beneath a shirt. If you could be bound to different things in the future without problems, this would be one thing you wanted. It felt important, it felt sturdy, it felt-

 

“Oh! Dave, you like that necklace?” Jade called out when she spotted the item being moved around. “I gave John that a few years ago. The spirograph inlay is made out of something called 'Maw sit sit', it's related to jadeite apparently! Or at least the lady in the store said it was. ..Eh. Mostly it just looked pretty and had a callback to me, so I thought it'd be a nice cheeky souvenir to send to John for a birthday.”

You knock the necklace from the shelf, up to the air, and over to land near John's leg.

“.. Oh. The necklace? What about it?”

“Dave,” Rose said, looking up from her knitting, “is that what you want to try latching on to?”

You nod furiously.

 

…. _yes_ …. _yes please yes good_ …..

 

“Well then,” she said, eyes going back down as she leaned in to type at her keyboard, starting to send some links. “I'll email you more specific instructions later, but here. Some basic reading for you two to get familiar with the less scientific sides of this. Keep an open mind, don't talk to strange demons, and if the dark gods say hello, say hello back with a smile.”

 

You weren't able to tell if Rose was kidding or not, and couldn't find it in yourself to give a single fuck.

 


	7. Bound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After much practice and effort, you finally feel prepared to try binding Dave to the pendant he'd selected. With Jade and Rose documenting and guiding the process, all of that time spent worrying and learning finally begin to pay off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tumblr mirror: http://themockingcrows.tumblr.com/post/148123249572/whisper-just-for-me-ch-7-bound

“Dave, be careful!”

 

… _.. what …_

 

“Don't what me, be -careful-!” you warn again, more insistently. “I'm worried something will happen if we rush this, just. Hang on alright? Let me just try to..”

 

Weeks of practice had led up to this moment. Weeks of practice far more intense than you'd be willing to admit. Your boss had questioned the sleepy expressions, the furtive reading on break and the eagerness to hurry through your shift as efficiently as possible in order to leave right on time. To get back home and practice what you'd learned.

Rose had sent plenty of links, yes, but she'd eventually sent books. Videos online. Essentially offered a smorgasbord of options for you to teach yourself from, with gentle personal guidance to back it up. Not all of it had really been that educational. More of a back seat experience of the dark side of YouTube fast forwarded into a love child with My Immortal. She promised that behind the layers of edge there were useful tidbits. You just viewed them as a stance to ignore entirely and got faster about trusting your gut instinct. If it read like a twelve year old wrote it, take it with more than a heft grain of salt.

The reward had been worth it already. Once in a while, though increasingly day by day, you'd started to notice things felt.. different. Looked different. You could sense the chill areas Dave was in more accurately, according to recorded word and Rose verifying now and then on Skype. General touching and feeling gave way to the soft tingles of electricity in the ends of your fingertips whenever you managed to touch him directly. Your recording sessions and increasingly sensitive ears let you know precisely how excited Dave was about that development.

Finally, you were starting to be able to touch HIM and not just vice versa. Not that there was anything wrong with it, but you were far more amused by the idea of touching your ghostly boyfriend and making him squirm as much as he made you squirm with the bits of control he could exert over you. Experiments on that front were pushed back in the hopes of figuring out how to bind him to the pendant he'd chosen.

 

Early tests were.. terrifying, really. You were so scared to mess up, scared of hurting Dave somehow or wrecking your chances of binding him properly in the future. Or of accidentally making him go away. This wasn't just a potential for “Whoops, let's try again tomorrow!” but a potential of essentially killing a ghost. Removing him forever from your side, maybe even in pain. Could ghosts hurt? You remembered reading about some that seemed to be in pain or suffering forever in their haunts.. But then again most of them weren't actually actively haunting, but shadows. Reminders of the past caught in a repetitive circle instead of bright and playful and reactive like Dave was.

 

The first time you'd been able to clearly see his face on your own since starting to practice, even though it lasted only a moment before he faded back to the faint reddish blur that wavered like heat waves on concrete, you knew how important this was. Knew you needed to see him more often, hear his whispers louder, wanted to take him out of the place he was tied to. .. The place he'd died, most likely. Jade said she'd still been on the case, and was trying to contact the man who they'd found on the records, but it was proving a strange endeavor. He seemed to be involved in a strange branch of fetish porn involving puppets, unless there was someone else with the same name and paper trail. She'd set up two dummy accounts in an attempt to email the administrator, and hoped to get some kind of information back soon. Still no death certificates, no local news of an incident.. but they weren't that surprised. This living man with his weird as hell website was like a shadow himself in existence.

 

If he was related to Dave at all, it wouldn't be surprising if the habit rubbed off, explaining their struggles.

 

But you'd done it. Finally. Working with Rose AND Dave, with Jade observing and getting readings on whatever she could manage, you'd managed to guide Dave into becoming affixed to the pendant. One moment the room felt electric and heavy with uncertainty.. then it felt light, and you felt like you'd chugged a can of Monster from how hard your heart was pumping. You'd done that. You had done that. You were the one who guided the friendly spirit from the broad bond on your home to a condensed item. ...It felt so different in here, was he okay? Was he trapped? Holy shit. Holy -shit-. The pendant was glowing a soft red, was warm to the touch, and pulsed like a heartbeat when you stared at it. Jade had apparently seen it with her naked eye, was fighting to keep the cameras and sensors aimed properly at the point, collecting bits of data that she was fairly sure had never before been gathered.

 

The only down side of this in her eyes was that no matter what she caught, this data would be useless if they wanted to protect Dave. Its main use was practice and experimentation for future application with other hauntings and developing more useful equipment.

You had started stroking the pendant gently, tracing the delicate rings of inlaid stone, and delighting in the electric hum against your fingertips. As far as ghosts could be considered alive, something was living in there now. It wasn't the chilly, flat metal you were used to.

 

“...Dave?” you ask softly. “Are, uh. ...Are you alright in there? Are you -in- there? Or just. Touching it. What's happening?”

“Maybe it's like a poké ball,” Jade said, making you flap a hand her direction and shoosh her.

“He's not a pokémon, he's my boyfriend!”

“He's a ghost. There are ghost pokémon,” Jade added as she turned the cameras off, smirking at how huffy you were getting. “Is he like Gengar though? Do you get paralyzed when he licks you? … Actually, no, don't answer that. I -really- don't want to know that.”

 

… _John?_ ….

 

You bristle and flinch your hand back briefly, only to return it and pick the gently pulsing pendant up, drawing it closer to your face to stare.

“Dave? Everything okay? ...Are you like. INSIDE of this? Or are you just focusing on it a lot? Shit, can you still move around the house or did I tether you or something by accident?” you asked, coming across borderline frantic. Keep calm. Just breathe. Let him respond. Let things get better good, good, good.. Just relax.. Settle the fuck down.

Or, you'd love to settle the fuck down at least. It was kind of hard when you realized a set of hands was forming over your own, warm and tingling like sharp pops of static in dry winter. Long, thin fingers, thin wrists and forearms, all in the reddish tinted glow. More solid than projection, more like he appeared in your dreams. He was holding your hands as he formed just beyond the pendant, a point in his chest pulsing to the same tempo as you held his heart in your hands.

 

…. _John_ …

 

“Rose, are you seeing this?” Jade asked, trying to scramble the camera back up and into focus, reaching to tip the laptop the right direction since the direction had changed.

“No, but I am now. I assume you're seeing it now too, then? Is that why everyone is pointing out the ghost?” Rose asked, leaning in her seat to fill more of the screen as she leaned in to peer at the screen closer. “Dave, taking a break by not forming legs?”

 

… _Yes_ … _Easier this way_ …

 

“Your voice sounds stronger than usual,” she commented, nodding in approval. “Less energy spent on manifesting compared to usual. Are you feeling okay?”

 

…. _Fantastic_ … _Can I stay this way?_ ….

 

“I can't imagine it'd hurt anything, but-”

“Are you really okay?” you interrupt to ask, brows furrowed. It had taken some time for your brain to catch up to the fact that you were seeing your ghost boyfriend, you were being touched by him where others could see, he was holding your fucking hands and was warm and everything felt.. good. It felt comforting. The gentle pulse of the pendant was relaxing you like nothing else you'd ever experienced, lulling your own panic into more and more calm as time went on.

 

…. _I'm fine, John_ …. _Don't worry_ … _I'm not going anywhere_ …

 

“But, I mean, are you tied to the pendant now? You're not going to disappear if I take you outside, right? Or. Or are you cramped or something?”

“I thought you said it wasn't a poké ball, John.”

“Jade, shut up, come on this is serious. If I'm hurting him or taking away his freedom or something, I want to undo this as fast as I possibly can!”

 

… _John, really, I'm fine_ …. _You're here and you're helping_ … _I haven't felt this good in years_ …

 

He was stroking over the knuckles of your fingers and feeling at your palms, introducing pressure bit by bit like a regular hand was able to. Eventually, Dave raised his left hand to stroke at your cheek, smoothing back your hair, nudging your glasses. You could feel your face getting warmer and warmer, knew you were probably blushing like crazy, but the fact nobody was commenting on that was a godsend.

Dave leaned forward and pressed his lips to your own, holding the position for a moment before pulling back so he could run his thumb over the plump parts of your lips instead. You couldn't be embarrassed anymore. Everyone already saw anyway, and this was fucking mesmerizing, it was like being back in a dream but so much better. You hoped it never stopped. As if in a trance, you reached up as well to try moving the strands of hair from his face, pushing against the faint red glow and marveling at how solid everything felt.

You moved the strands of pale hair, touched the side of Dave's warm face, and trailed down the side of his jaw before you felt him move as if hitching a breath that wasn't there. He wavered a bit and you yanked your hand back to hold the pendant more carefully, glancing down and up a few times.

 

“Dave? Dave, are you okay? What's happening?

…. _I'm happy_ … _So happy_ … _I felt it_ .. _felt YOU_ … _felt_ … _touch felt warm felt touch_ …

 

He looked like he was about to cry, and you wanted to smack the stupid part of your brain that wondered what it was like when a ghost cried, if ectoplasm was involved or if it was just the same hollow echo of reality as injuries seemed to be for ghosts.

 

“Get a room, guys,” Rose teased from beyond the laptop screen, grinning broadly. Yes, good, John had proved to be a faster pupil than she imagined. The fact Dave was so hellbent on being seen and getting to interact with John seemed to help pick up the slack and stabilize the bridge between them. She wondered how well they would have gotten along if Dave was still alive. If they'd be dating right now, or running off to Vegas like a couple of fools.

“This IS my room, you know. You're literally in my room. Well. Digitally. But Jade's literally in here.”

“Shhh, we know we know, just. ..Wow. For some reason I didn't imagine the first thing he'd try to do with more energy was _kiss_ you,” Jade said quietly. Dave wavered again and looked around the room to pick a point before he stopped touching you, turning to drift towards the bookshelf, wanting to see if he could interact with other physical objects as well. He didn't form legs again, instead choosing to drift as an upper body, legs forming more of a wispy trail back towards the pendant.

 

It took some work, but a book was successfully knocked over and to the ground by Dave's power alone, and he couldn't look happier. HE did that! And people SAW it! Saw him knock the stupid book off the shelf and back down to the floor where it belonged, saw him interacting with John, saw him DOING things! Shit what else could he do, what else what else what ELSE to do!

You smile, lift the necklace up over your head and put it on. The tingle continued same as it had in your hands, though the feeling of a heartbeat lessened.

 

“We should try seeing how far your range is with this.. Do you need to rest first though? Try to save some energy,” you warn. “..Wait, would others be able to see you?”

 

Dave shrugged, glanced to Rose for information. He was just a ghost, man, it's not like he even understood how he worked. He'd appeared there and that was as much as he knew.

 

“If they're sensitive, they might be able to see him. But unless he tries to make himself visible.. I don't think so,” Rose promised. “Jade, I think the main reason you've been able to see him is because of constant contact, and being around John's studies so much. You're not in as much contact as John is day to day, true, but it can still accumulate. Still add up.”

“Do I need to start carrying a gun loaded with salt, or..”

“No, I think you're fine. If you're concerned, some blessed water and salt would probably do the trick however. I could hook you up next time you spend the night?”

You look over and cock your head, brow lifted. “...Spend the night? Jade??”

Your cousin had gone quiet, pushing the cameras back open to check the insides, movements getting quicker and quicker till she finally growled in frustration, “This isn't ABOUT me!! How far is his range now? Can you really go outside already, or will he disappear? Can he go elsewhere in the apartment still?”

Right. Questions even you had. Dave suddenly darted from the bookshelf out towards the hall, fading down to his usual orb of red light instead of keeping the larger form. From the sound of it, he was knocking something over in every room of the apartment before darting back, the orb diving right for your chest. Though you'd braced for impact, the most you felt was an increase in heat and a smile crossing your lips.

Next step, outside. One step closer to going on a date.

 

Perfect.


	8. Out On The Town

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bound to the pendant, you're finally able to leave the house with John, limited only by your own lack of self control and the desire to explore. Behaving and knowing your limits is important if you want to keep exploring how the world has changed since your death, and even more important for participating in the excursions with John. With a date finally happening, just the two of you out and about, will you have the patience to keep close and savor it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr mirror - http://themockingcrows.tumblr.com/post/148503962602/whisper-just-for-me-ch-8-out-on-the-town

A simple trip around town was not going to be nearly enough for you, once a plan had been made. The binding had been a success, and subsequent excitement had made the mini expeditions draining. You were still able to drift through the apartment and on the property as before, but when John wore the pendant, a further range was at your transparent fingertips. For the first time in years, you'd gone all the way to the sidewalk and got a good look at how the street had changed, and in the excitement you had gone further than you'd originally intended to from the new focus point and become exhausted.

Same as when you were newly dead and trying so hard to flee the land the apartment building resided on before realization and acceptance had kicked in, the consistent fade and return, fade and return, over and over. At least with John all it took was one excited drift at top speed, a moment of feeling like you was actually affected by gravity again and everything going colorless, then dark. You were almost to the corner and the world went slow and gray like an old film skipping seconds at a time, cold, faint pain in your chest. ...Then everything became warm again, bright, colorful. The sound of John's voice was calming, though you had to focus to let him know softly that you were okay.

 

Too much too soon, but you were okay.

 

John had refused to take you and your pendant outside for a solid week, and after that it was only to boring places like the corner store or grocery shopping. ...Okay, so even that was interesting. Packaging had changed so much on different snacks and foods, brands had disappeared or grown or shrunk in popularity over the many years you'd been unable to look a them. It was novel actually. Everything was so bright, so heavy in design. Sturdier, more meant to last the transportation and ride home from any store. You wanted one of everything you came across just to experience it, but with John saying No and Behave, you settled for jostling all the boxes and jars that you passed on the shelves.

He wanted fairly boring things, soap and toilet tissue, shaving cream, some ingredients for the next few days of food. You wanted to mess with the produce, making someone double take when you disrupted the mist over the vegetables, chilling the spine of everyone hunting for bargains by passing through them or messing with the bags they carried.

John kept gently asking you to not mess with him right then, and considering how focused he was, you had agreed. It was difficult to stick close enough to avoid the thudding chest and world going gray with so much to see and do, even if the effects you had on the world were limited. John was grabbing things he needed for his day to day life instead of playing and you were, frustratingly enough, stuck on your leash waiting for him to move his damn feet faster.

These little trips and the occasional fuck ups that they eventually wrung out of you as you learned better to judge distances were tiring. You needed to rest by the time you'd reached home again, laying dormant save for soft conversations through John's recording device. Playback took more time, but it was useful for when you needed to conserve energy. Some of the things Rose had sent and John had studied mentioned spirits using the hosts body as energy but.. you worried about putting too much stress on John.

 

Hurting him would be counter intuitive. You won't deny the thought had crossed your mind though, draining from him often, maybe even to a point of no return. John joining you as a ghost would be both a nightmare and a dream come true, considering you enjoyed him being alive so much. ..He'd probably be sad as a ghost, with how many links to the living he had. Being with you would be novel at first, then increasingly lonely as you had been when you were alone if you proved unable to keep him distracted and happy enough.

There was also the fact you had no idea how you'd become a ghost in the first place aside from dying, and thus had no idea of how to ensure John would even STAY here. How the fuck did YOU even get here? Why did you never see any other ghosts? Were you in some special frequency that they weren't, or had you just not experienced any other haunted sites yet?

 

Science was calling and so were more trips off the property with John.

 

Dates. These were dates. Even John had started calling them dates, even if all you were doing was going to get a soda, he'd take the pendant and call it a date, because he didn't feel comfortable taking you out of the house for entire days yet. ...You couldn't really blame him. If there were such a thing as a more effective ghostly child leash, it would actually be useful for you till you got some more self control.

The big plan though, the big date, was coming at last. John had promised and planned as you got better with limiting yourself and grown strong again, and talked out an idea of what to do for a more formal date. Dinner, though nothing fancy, some window shopping, maybe a movie. He'd mumbled something else before going quiet, face red, and though you hadn't heard it entirely, you were fairly sure that they'd been straight forward.

John was taking you out on the town for a proper date, and you were going to absolutely destroy the love of your afterlife the second you got home. Potentially even sooner, depending on how ripe the opportunity was. You hadn't left the apartment in a few days and hadn't bothered to form as more than the little visible orb even for John, speaking happening quietly or when John was already mostly asleep. Trying to prep, to build yourself up.

 

“Dave? Do you need to, like, do any ghost primping?”

….. _Do I what?_ …..

“Well. You know, I mean like. To get ready for today? Ectoplasm hair gel or something,” John said, then made a face. “Actually no, please don't do that, ectoplasm makes me think of spooge and the idea of jizz as hair gel i-”

…. _John, shut up_ ….

“Right. Right, sorry, that was pretty gross huh,” he said with a snort. While John changed, you kept brushing close, stroking along his thigh or the curve of his back, icy kiss to the throat before darting away to ruffle papers excitedly on his desk.

 

A date. You were really going on a date with your boyfriend. You'd been dead this long but you were in love and loved and you were getting to go on a fucking _**date**_ and everything about this was amazing. Who would have ever thought you'd get to do this! Certainly not you. ..You were lucky, getting to interact with people again. With humans again. Mortals? The living? Christ, how cartoony could you really get with that kind of talk. You were human, just. ...With some extra bonuses, like being able to go through walls and be invisible. Superman, but inside of a bubble that kept you safe from a lot of kyrptonite.

John combed his hair best he could, adding some product before slicking it back, trying to lay it flat. It lasted about five minutes before he gave up and just tried to tame the mess into something aesthetically appealing. You kept going over and gently tugging strands that looked softest, teasing at his scalp till his skin went to goosebumps and he'd start bitching at you to let him get dressed.

 

“You enjoy creeping on me when I get dressed, huh?”

…. _Haven't I always?_ …. What kind of a question was that. Of course. Yes. Obviously. What ELSE was there to do? You watched whatever things he brought up on Youtube, you read whatever pages of books he was reading because individual page flipping was hard. It's not like you could do things very well anymore.

“..Actually I've been meaning to ask about that. Why DON'T you do other things? Especially now that you're stronger,” John asked, tipping his head. “You can throw books. Why don't you use the computer now and then? It's electronic based, you should be able to manipulate it.. It'd probably make things less boring while I'm out.”

 

...How do you explain that you don't know how a computer works for sure. You've watched for ages, but because you assumed there would never be any reason to touch the thing, you didn't quite know how to go about it. You flickered a bit, uncertain, but bobbed in place to try getting the message across silently.

 

“How about I show you later. If nothing else, you can probably watch youtube or something and have fun. If we get you learning how to type, you could even send messages to my phone sometimes, if you want. Could have a bit more freedom even when you're stuck at home.”

 

Your flickering grew intense as a fire before you finally flared, half forming so you could surge over and hug John tight as you could. Holy shit it was so obvious, it had been right there, and none of you had thought about that option. Yes, holy shit yes! More things to learn and do and interact with, without the fading in and out that happened when you got excited outside. More things to DO.

Laughing, John squirmed under the electric, icy tingles that came with your touch, the pressure otherwise welcome.

 

“Hey, hey! Let up, I need to get my shoes on so we can get going. Don't you want to go on this date?”

 

Obediently, you stroked along his face in a kiss before darting away to give him peace. You threw a few sets of his shoes around noisily in the living room, wondering which ones he'd go for. Sneakers, probably, since he'd put on jeans. Something comfortable for walking around in a lot. The second John put the pendant on, your chest felt warmer and you gave in to the urge to streak back to him, upper half reforming as you drifted, wanting to mess with his sleeves and the bottom edges of the shirt he wore, maybe blow some cold air up beneath it all.

John danced away from the tugs and tweaks, laughing as he juggled his wallet and phone. He slipped in a set of earbuds, adjusted where a little mic would be, then settled everything else into his pockets with a grin.

  
  
“Right, right! Okay. So. I won't be able to reply ALL the time, but this way it'll just look like I'm respond to a phone call. Does that seem good?” he asked, striking a pose to await praise.

…. _Handsome_. …..

“Dave, I meant the setup. ...I don't even think this mic thing works, but it LOOKS convincing so.”

…. _VERY handsome._ ….

“Dave.”

….. _John._ ….

 

Sighing, John shook his head.

 

“Well, either way. I'm ready and I'm pretty sure that you're more than ready. Let's get going.”

 

Drifting just beside John's head, you left the apartment and headed out into the parking lot, laying flat in the pendants face once the drive began. Forcing yourself down to rest was easier than being distracted during the drive and falling behind the car or struggling to keep up with it. Everything just happened so fast and intense during drives, there was no way to keep your eyes focused only on the far off point of the goal. If you'd gotten your license while alive, you were pretty sure you'd have lost it just as fast for being so easily distracted.

John's choice in restaurant wasn't that amazing. He'd pulled into the parking lot of an IHOP, and grinning, explained that anywhere open at all hours for food was usually quick to ignore stranger guests attitudes so long as they weren't disruptive. A back booth all to himself, and you lurked out to go buzzing at the edges of your self imposed tether, not wanting to wind up exhausted by the end of the date if you could help it. It was interesting to see the cook moving around in the kitchen, and how things were plated, when normally all he could remember ever seeing in restaurants was the table and serving staff or mystery doors.

You delighted in telling John about what was happening behind the doors, his blue eyes actually trained on your face, chilling up your back. He was staring at you, actually seeing you. Taking a seat across from him, even if you weren't touching the chair, seemed the best thing to do. Pranks were on hold for now, teasing was on hold. John ate his burger peacefully, listening to you chatter away and occasionally asking questions. Nothing deep or important, mostly questions on foods you used to like.

Apple juice, junk food from McDonalds and other chains, some of those ready made or canned meals from the store that needed little prep aside from an oven, TV dinners if you could season them just right, Jiffy Pop when it didn't catch on fire. You loved soda and even though spicy food made your eyes water and your stomach fill with regret sometimes, you'd never give it up.

 

… Well. Not purposefully, at least.

 

John's plate was.. interesting. If you swept forward and bit, you couldn't taste things, but you could get a hint of what they tasted like. Maybe from memory, filling in the blanks and guessing for what just was not there anymore. He laughed, said it was like trying to keep a plate safe from a house cat even if you didn't eat, and stuck around even after he'd finished eating to nurse his soda a little longer. An excuse to hear you continue talking.

Seriously, was it normal to love someone this much? That just realizing they want you to talk makes your chest ache? Had to be some kind of normal or amazing, just like it felt.

He paid, and you both headed out, you nesting down in the pendant for the trip, resting. Taking a little strength from John, since he seemed to be bubbling over right then from the excitement and the meal. It felt safe enough then, no reason to feel guilty, no risks. Window shopping might be interesting..

Correction.

Window shopping was fantastic. Was very fantastic.

The mall, John said, was kind of expensive but still fun. You could dig it, and the sounds and sights were bright and loud and colorful as John slowly walked along past the stores with his hands in his pockets.

 

“Hm. How about you go ahead and pick for me?” he said after adjusting the mic piece, wanting to look the part of the hands-free conversationalist. “I can't really decide.”

 

Pick a store? ...Pick a store. Clothes were tempting, and you rubbed John's sides with your icy fingertips as you tried to decide. Get him alone, get him in a changing room, drive him crazy. ….aaaand potentially end the date right there, stranded. No. Not a great idea. Damn.

Gamestop looked interesting. You'd seen bags with the same marker in the apartment before, and John usually seemed excited about them. It's where he got some of the games he played on the TV. Shit, what was the name of the thing, you had seen the label and heard the word a lot, but same as with the computer it had just never registered with you as something to focus on, being beyond your influence. Apparently, at least. Could you play games?

Could you play games WITH John? Was that possible?

Deciding to give it a shot, you stop teasing and touching at your boyfriend's body and instead yank his shirt to try tugging him forward, guiding him with nudges and nuzzles and pushes to the upper back as John playfully ignored your attempts best he could before giving in. What a douche. Fuck you loved this guy.

 

“Gamestop, huh? Okay, I'll take a look at what's in stock. Maybe we'll get lucky and find something good for later? ..Don't worry, I'm pretty sure I know some things you'd like.”

 

Eyes were on you the second you drifted inside. Both of you. Someone was tracking your movements as well as John's and it was jarring. The staff member behind the counter looked startled, brows furrowed, and kept trying not to look directly at you as you tested this perception by darting around. John was none the wiser of your experimental game, too used to you buzzing and bopping to and fro through the brightly colored shelves. A second employee didn't notice anything till you knocked a few plushies off the shelf without breaking eye contact with the first.

 

“...Hm. Dave, let me know which you like more: puzzles, or kicking butt? Because I've got an idea of some older styled games you'd like as well as some newer games aside from what's already at home. No rush, but maybe some hints would be good,” John said, trying to keep his words open ended as a phone call, nodding a bit. “..Mm. Okay. I'll keep an eye out for it.”

 

When the staring employee tried to get the attention of the second one, tried to get them to notice you at all, they were laughed at. You couldn't help but smirk a bit, going to John to curl around his shoulders showily and stare at the games he was sorting through. ...Huh. Some of these were familiar, you'd seen similar names on things John already had, but the box art was really nice. You reached for a few titles, listened to him softly whisper that he already had Skyrim and Fallout at home, and that you would probably love the glitches a lot. He settled for a collection of arcade classics, an old Zelda game from the bargain bin and a copy of Super Mario Maker, which he was sure you'd enjoy.

MAKING the levels? You could MAKE the levels in the game. _You_ could. Holy shit. Holy shit, prepare to go through the fucking gauntlet, you fat little plumber.

 

Keeping eye contact with the employee who was sensitive enough to see you wrapped around your boyfriend's shoulders was fun, though it might get them in trouble. Their reactions were slow enough for even John to get confused by, stammering and having trouble collecting different things from behind the counter for him. Bagged up and leaving, you had to dart closer to them, right up in their face, so you could touch their hair and whisper.

…. _Thank you, have a nice day_ …..

You left while the color drained from their face and their knees started to lock in place, darting after John like a red streak to lodge in the pendant again and spectate, a bit over stimulated already from how many people there were here who, apparently, could potentially see him with no forewarning.

 

“So, I was thinking a movie next, but I've actually got a better plan,” John was saying suddenly. “But I think I have a better idea for what to do next. You up for an adventure?”

….. _What kind of adventure_ ….

“The really cool kind. There's a spot that, potentially, wasn't actually around when you were around. I think it was built in the late nineties...And as you are now, you might actually get to enjoy it even more than me!”

John looked so excited, there was no way for you to deny him. Of course, John. Anything he wanted. Anything to keep that face bright and happy and full of starlight.

 

…. _Wherever you lead, I'll follow_ ….

 

Next stop: adventure.

 


	9. Falling In Line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following the first half of the date, John's surprise location turns out to be full of picture opportunities and chances to talk. However, when the unexpected happens and suddenly you're in control, will the date manage to land safely at home? Or will the allure of curiosity and hints of freedom prove too much for you to resist?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original tumblr post: http://themockingcrows.tumblr.com/post/151585156632/whisper-just-for-me-ch-9-falling-in-line

The drive had been uneventful from your point of view. John said he wanted to make things a surprise since it was a totally new foolproof plan for the best date ever, so he urged you to return to the pendant for a while. Even if you wanted to stay outside, this would actually be pretty beneficial by letting you rest and regain energy while not having to keep up with the car and resist the temptation to not do so. Avoiding those brief moments of 'catching up' were fantastic. So, warm and red, you had returned to the pendant and felt consciousness slip away.

“..ve. Dave? Hey, we're here now. You can come out if you want, the surprise is all ready for our date!”

 

After a brief moment of puzzling sluggishness, you emerged from your resting spot as if crawling from your boyfriend's chest, keeping the legless form for the time being. The genie tail was more useful for getting around in small spaces, didn't distract you by how weird it was to be face to face with John and half out of the windshield as much as you would be if there were two separate appendages to be aware of.

You looked out the window after John continued to embody a smiley face before remembering the freedom that being incorporeal offered, lifting your head up and out for a better view. The building he had parked near was rather large, with dark paned windows and brushed steel accents, everything soothing deep blues and grays and greens with speckles of white. A sign stuck to the front was of an octopus draped around a round edged bubble, welcoming visitors. Oh. An aquarium? How far from the city were you, how deep _in_ the city were you? When the fuck was this thing built? Would it be better or worse for not having the tacky nautical aesthetic that immediately came to mind when someone thought of the ocean and all the crap that hid in it?

Didn't matter. If it was tacky even in the gift shop, you'd be perfectly happy. You already WERE happy, actually. John was beaming and looking proud of himself as he set things up for being able to speak aloud in public to you, adjusting a last time before crawling out of the car and locking up.

 

“Luckily, this means I only need to buy one ticket. Know why that's lucky?” he asked.

…. _cheaper?_ …

“Well, yeah, of course it's cheaper. By a good twenty bucks! But the lucky fact is that I get to take that twenty bucks and use it in the store afterward for a souvenir. We can take something home from our day here, and you can fling it around all you want to show off.” John paused, then laughed a bit. “Well. I mean so long as it's not a mug, or a snowglobe or something. That wouldn't be good to fling around at all.”

 

The walk across the parking lot was fairly boring, John weaving through cars and trying not to get hit by distracted families in other cars or leading their children along like alligator tails. You flickered around people, dancing at the edges of their vision and notice, paying not much mind except to those who showed even the beginning of being able to see you. Just a glimmer, a shiver of chill if you darted through them or messed with their hair, a shout of frustration as you knocked a hat off a man's head and startled a woman so badly she dropped her phone and started cussing like a sailor.

John tried to keep from laughing too badly when it happened, knowing it wasn't really funny, knowing he should complain about you destroying other people's belongings. Didn't manage to stop his giggles though. Not in the slightest.

 

“Dave, come on, behave,” he murmured, and you had to dart forward to press cold almost-kisses to his face while upside down till you both got in the doors.

 

Nobody in the lobby could see you that you could detect, no lingering glances, no stares, no confused expressions as they look around or away in denial. No babies reaching up towards the blank space your inhabited. The only person who seemed to take notice that something was not quite right was the young woman working behind the thick plated glass of the ticket booth, eyes wide behind her glasses and following your every move instead of John's. She broke contact when your boyfriend looked confused and tapped the gap beneath the glass on the counter.

 

“Uhm. ..Excuse me? Ma'am are you okay?”

 

She flinched and broke eye contact with you long enough to look at John at last.

 

“Ah! Y-yes sir? Sorry there, I think I had something in my eye, haha. What can I help you with today?”

 

“I wanted to get a ticket. Just for today, single person please, with the discovery addition,” John said as he tugged his wallet out. You tugged his hair gently, made him squirm and struggle not to respond to you automatically, even though he wanted to. The illusion of talking on a phone was there for a reason, why not use it and follow the plan? You leaned to whisper in his ear, catching the woman's eye contact briefly, making her struggle a bit to keep her hands moving to take his money in hand and process the ticket sale properly.

….. _She can see me_ ….

 

“I don't think that's possible, Dave, but. ..Maybe? I guess? What makes you think that?” he asked, tipping his head slightly to speak towards the unneeded microphone.

…... _Look at her face, John. She can see me_ …..

John glanced up, though the timing was off by mere seconds. The staff member had put on her customer service smile and happily pushed his change and ticket forward where he could reach them, waved even and wished him a good day. Asked if he needed a map or any pamphlets, directions, anything, anything at all to keep from having to look up and potentially meet your gaze again.

… Alright. Perhaps teasing her too much would be bad. She'd spooked terribly, and while it was hilarious, too much could get her in trouble. There were plenty of people to scare or startle in the world, probably, plenty of babies and animals to get attention from. This one could get a pass.

 

“No, see? No idea what you're talking about,” he said while rolling his eyes, then grinned brightly at the staff member, pocketing his ticket and change. “Thanks, have a good day,” he said before heading for the wide double doors with you. “Really, I think you were looking too deeply at things. And even if she could, what difference would it make? We're here to have fun, not to make me worry about someone asking questions or getting nosy.”

…. _Tell them we're on a date, if they ask_ ...

“Dave, if they can see, I don't think that'll work so great for an explanation,” John snickered. “A date's... well. I don't think they'd imagine it's possible. And then I'd be stuck yammering about all the stuff I specifically wanted to keep secure and quiet, remember?”

 

His logic was on point, but the fact that he couldn't talk about you existing at all really put a damper on the whole thing if you thought on it too long. You could run around screaming to the heavens that you were bound to an amazing guy, that you loved him, that you were dating, that you'd do anything to make his life easier and happier. Nobody would be able to hear you though. A few could probably hear whispers but make no sense of it, others could see but probably couldn't hear.

What would John be able to do? Say he was dating a ghost and not be taken as crazy?

Right. Sure.

You sulked and did a quick flip in the air, rounded your body as if you were stretching while John fed himself through the rows of empty turnstiles and out into the open floor, trying to orient himself properly with a large map on a block. Apparently, according to the bright purple octopus symbol, you were HERE. Wherever HERE was. John tracked down different things he wanted to show, pointing them out as he spoke quietly.

 

“So I wanted to see the octopus, and take some pictures. And.. oh, over here they've got turtles, and there's a manta ray feeding spot, and a tide pool to touch things like sea stars over here. There's a lot of seahorses here, and.. Oh! The jellyfish exhibit lights up and changes colors, if I remember right, it's really neat. There's some sharks and stuff too, in this big walk through tube,” John rattled off as he gestured, obviously excited.

 

You made sure to try to memorize each idea best you could, but curled close to murmur by his ear again.

 

…. _Let's just see it all. I'm sure we'll see everything if we go around_ ….

“Heh. Right, right, overthinking. Let's go ahead and go while the crowds are thin!”

 

You wished so badly you could take his hand and swing it, but short of that the next best option was what you took, floating near the height you were likely meant to be at John's side, touching over his palm and fingers to make them icy cold between flashes of grip and squeeze and tug. The aquarium itself was actually pretty amazing, from the calm quiet lightning to the sleek tiled floors, balancing modern and distant. Everything looked gigantic, and thanks to the limited crowds, there was a distinct feeling of emptiness. Open space, empty space.

John led the way to an exhibit based on the Amazon, turtles darting below the water and chasing each other playfully between bouts of wandering and exploring their exhibit. Fish you'd seen in books before, though at poorer quality, were moving slowly in their tanks, blissful and relaxed. Poisonous dart frogs clung to slick leaves, bright and intense.

John pressed close to every tank he was able to, or otherwise got close as he could, taking pictures without the flash on. You took advantage of barriers being nothing to you, and went up close and personal with creatures you'd never seen in life, tracing your fingers along their shapes. They could all see you, but there was no startle or panic. Instead, the creatures were curious, bobbed closer to try bumping against you or biting at your arms or ghostly lower half, turning cartwheels in the water when it dawned on them that the solid thing they were trying to bite was not able to be bitten at all.

 

The passing of barriers continued in the tunnel you followed John into. He was deeply impressed as he craned his neck one way then the other, watching the big creatures drifting around and out of sight after flashing their bellies over top of his head, trying to take pictures of things that came into focus easiest. You darted around after the biggest, loveliest things and herded them near enough for John to get a better look, even posed best you could with them on the off chance you'd appear in the shot. When John turned the view around to take a selfie, you curled around his shoulders and kissed the side of his temple, crisp and icy.

Only one of the pictures showed an anomaly, a flash where there was none with a red tint at the edges, but you didn't mind. If you were to be remembered today as the lens flare, then lens flare you would be.

 

Feeding the manta rays was something that made you a bit jealous, though. John held the bits of food on his palm and kept his hand flat, let the pancakes of the sea slip and slide over his hand to suck up the food like tiny vacuums before fluttering away to continue their loop around the tank. You couldn't hold the food, couldn't feed them, couldn't do more than have them drift just out of your grasp and then hurry towards John since he had something to offer.

 

“..Hey. Dave. Hold my hand a second? Really deep,” John said aloud, though it was under his breath. You curled your fingers around his free hand before he laughed, “I mean the one with the food in it! That one, aim for that one.”

 

It wasn't the same, but the offer was sweet. You place your hand against the outer edge of his and press forwards to squeeze it, passing right through. John's hand went pale from the chill, but the eager little rays came around again like clockwork and ate the offered food. It made you wonder if they noticed the chill, if they knew you were there amid the frenzy of trying to get as much food as possible from each person who was offering it to them. Your boyfriend ended up washing his hands afterward, all smiles on his way to the interactive tank with starfish and other small creatures that were safe to touch. An infant in a stroller could see you clearly, and baffled their parents as their bright, clear eyes tried to follow you and your antics instead of looking at whatever their parents were trying to show them.

A missing finger trick here and there upgraded to a missing hand joke, a benefit of being incorporeal. Raucous laughter and squealing. Peekaboo never ended, nor did teasing their thin strands of hair till they giggled and kicked in their stroller, still reaching your direction as their parents eventually wheeled them on to the next thing to see or ignore.

 

“That was cute, you know,” John said, glancing up with his fingers still just barely brushing over the spiny tips of a sea urchin. “I never would've pegged you as being good with kids.”

…. _Children can see, so why not play?_ ….

“I bet you'd have made a great dad if. ...Y'know,” John said awkwardly at your staring, soon coughing and withdrawing his hands from the water, wringing his pruny fingers as he went to wash up.

…. _Yeah, being dead kind of hinders that a bit John. But maybe, I guess._ ….

“Well. I'M technically able to,” he pointed out. “I think being a dad sounds fun. ..Maybe someday I can foster or adopt, teach the little rugrat to see you too.”

…. _Okay, I've heard of baby fever before, but this is intense. You alright?_ …

 

You pensively swoop closer, curl around John's waist like a serpent and settle your arms around his neck, holding on best you can at the edges instead of dipping lower and through him. It was a feat in and of itself, took focus and stability, but it was still nice to do, especially if you were both focusing hard on it.

 

“Yeah. Yeah, I'm alright, it just made me think a lot,” he said, drying his hands on his pants. It broke the hold you had, arms dipping through his shoulders and neck, but you stayed in position for when he'd inevitably straighten his back up again. “I'm happy. I'm happy with this. There's still so much I want to do in life, though, and a lot of it's gonna be hard till I can figure out how to explain precisely who I'm dating and how.”

 

…. _Maybe I can be some elusive globetrotter who sweeps in at night to sex you up and cuddle you senseless_ ….

“Hah! High profile husband you'd be, no matter what the reality,” John said fondly, then halted for a moment, red in the face. He stared your direction for a moment before shaking his head and starting to walk, knowing that once you fell off him that you would inevitably follow like his shadow, needing to keep up with the pendant as much as desiring to stay close.

…. _What's with the look?_ ….

“Huh? Oh, uh. ..Nothing. Just thinking, don't worry about it.” At your stare, darting in front of him to look at him, John turned his head to look aside at different large fish floating by. Another angle and attempt had him looking the other way, red to his ears, till finally you hurried into another tank pre-emptively and made a face at him, breaking the pattern and making him laugh. “Okay! Okay, I'll tell you, alright? I just. ….I dunno. I think it'd be nice to have that someday.”

…. _I agree, what's wrong though?_ ….

“Just. Talking about all that stuff's awkward, heh. We're still really young! ...I'M really young,” John corrected at your stare. “And things are really new. I remembered my dad calling that 'putting the cart before the horse' and I'm pretty sure I understand that if I think on it more.”

 

You smiled a bit and came close again, tugging his hair gently this way and that till he lightened up and got distracted enough to laugh and swat in your direction.

 

“Okay, okay, I'll lighten up. You're right. This is a date day, things are supposed to be fun! ..Mm.. How about we take a break, let me get a bite to eat, then we can continue. I still want to see the seahorses and the jellyfish. And the octopus too!”

….. _If the food area isn't pirates I demand you get a refund._ ….

“I dunno, this place seems kinda classy. ..I wonder if they sell fish though. Would that be weird? To sell fish and seafood things in an aquarium?” John asked. “I mean it'd fit the theme, and there's seafood places at the ocean too, but.”

… _Better fishsticks than sushi, just get a burger._ ….

 

The first sight of the restaurant had you bugging John to get a refund already. It wasn't so much an actual restaurant as a cafeteria masquerading as a cafe of sorts, with offerings of wrapped sandwiches and pre-packaged snacks with a nautical theme on the covers or shelves, stickers on the protective glass and sneeze guards. A few tanks of fish were around, betta and plecostomus and mollies, flashes of snails and silvery streaks of angel fish or rich colors of koi who weren't large enough yet to be in the bigger tank. Very few things on the menu were hot or freshly prepared, and the price was higher if you got fresh. Since it had been a few hours since the IHOP adventure, John had wound up with a hot sandwich and a serving of fries with a container of dipping cheese, fruit juice with a squeeze bottle top. The most sea-based thing he'd come close to getting was a serving of soup with a seaweed base, but the sandwich apparently was calling his name too loudly to be ignored.

You sulked around while he made his choices and loaded up his tray with the food and napkins, silverware just in case the sandwich fell apart on its little platter. The chips were rustled in sharp blows as you investigated the different brands and designs of the packages, discovering most of the brands were familiar still but.. definitely weird looking. Same as at the grocery store, all the packages were so bright and intensely colored, the designs were sleeker, and most of the things promised inside.. were actually pretty appealing looking. Tasty. Delicious. They didn't even have the words that promised it was going to be good to eat, they just SHOWED it.

Glamour shots of potato chips, Dave never knew such a thing existed before John had started taking him to the stores. They were missing out on so much when he was alive!

John cleared his throat when you started to knock cups over, frowning and shaking his head a bit. The place wasn't very busy, didn't have much staff, and John didn't seem to appreciate your making a mess even if you were bored or excited. Pity. You hoped he'd learn to live it up more with you tagging along with him long enough.

 

“See? Not that bad. Could probably do with a few shitty pirates around here and there.. but I'm not complaining,” John said as he unwrapped his sandwich. After stacking some fries on top, he drizzled a bit of the cheese from the container over top of the layering, then smashed the top bun flat to force things into a more manageable size to eat from. You lit up watching him do that, and hovered excitedly over the table as if reclining on your side, relaxing.

…. _You eat like I used to. Fries on everything as well as on the side._ ….

“Really?” he asked, straightening up after a few bites and some chewing. “Wow. Heh, I wonder what else we've got in common like that? What about pizza, how did you eat that?”

…. _Like any other sensible man. Fold that shit in half and eat it, or cover it in Doritos or Fritos and hot sauce._ ...

“So they had Doritos when you were alive, but were they the SAME?” he asked, dodging a falling chunk of cheese fry before taking another bite, hungrier than he'd realized he was.

…. _Packaging is different. It's not plastic with a window anymore. No mouse on the bag. ...Cheese looks different._ …

“Wha' a'out 'ha 'as'e?” he asked around a full mouth. When you deadpanned and lifted a brow, he swallowed in a hurry, nearly choked, downed a quarter of his drink in one go trying to save himself, and finally wheezed a bit. “Sorry. Right. Right, sorry, no tasting. Right. Forgot.”

 

Embarrassed, John went quiet again, but at least he was eating slow again. You spent some time chitchatting before letting the words go quiet as more people filtered into the eating area, not feeling like talking if he couldn't reply. John gestured to his phone, to show he could still reply, but you shook your head and went to drift around instead, restless. Nobody here could see you. Sure, it was fun to knock their drink over and make them scramble, it was appealing to make them shiver and look around when their hair stood on end. But it was just as nice to drift in the tanks of fish and pose among them, watching John take a picture when the shrimp kept trying to mob your glowing red body, winding up in a thick cluster in a corner when clambering your frame amounted to nothing.

When he focus faded away again and boredom captured you, you drifted upwards.. and slipped right up behind John's back. The conversation from earlier was still fresh in your mind, warm and fluttering like a small bird, and you'd give anything to kiss John's throat while letting him know just how you felt about the idea still. Being a globe trotting lover. Being a husband. Being a parent. They were all impossible for you, it couldn't be done, but if you could give him even a sense of that.. how much of your soul would it take to give him the world and make him smile? You dipped your head and took the opportunity, laying teeth to his neck in a sharper sting of cold than just a kiss, enough to make John flinch in your arms and go red in the ears when a soft groan snuck out before he could halt it.

 

“ _Dave_ ,” he hissed, scooting his seat further forward to break the fickle hold you had, but he couldn't escape or cause too much of a scene. People were nearby after all.

 

You cooed softly and nosed chill behind his ear, fluffed his hair with your fingertips till they were the static of winter and he was squirming through eating a few fries. When your hands dipped lower, below the curved edge of his shirt and down below where his belt was secured, you felt your lover jump. Literally felt it. Was it a growing connection? Was he just getting more used to you? Was something else happening..? You craved feeling the brief flash of heat in your chilly world, the pressure, the feeling of having tangible sensation almost as much as you desire absolutely wrecking John.

John's eyes dilated noticeably as he felt the individual points of your fingertips, and you knew precisely which fish he was desperately focusing on to try distracting himself from you. Never once did he say no. Never once did he resist more than a playful shuffle to escape your affections. In fact, he sized up the distance between himself and others, and apparently braced himself for the onslaught of static and shivering to inevitably come.

 

….. _Good boy. Such a good boy.. MY good boyfriend.. Mine mine mine mine mine_...

 

While you could've spread everywhere you wanted, you kept it slightly reigned in. Now and then, you swore you could detect pressure against your fingertips, against the creeping spread of your form as you let things go less solid to cover more ground. You molded against his chest, dipping just barely below the flesh that the shirt hid so prettily, pressed your lips against his throat and the Adam's apple that bobbed nervously. It was a small victory when his nipples perked up for you and he had trouble focusing on eating.

Someone came closer to look at a tank off to the side and John's pulse picked up, worried someone would notice.. but as usual, nobody saw. Nobody here had the sight. Nobody in this room could have the pleasure of seeing you completely wreck your boyfriend with teasing. Same as nobody could see the look of surprise on your face when you dipped just a bit further and felt sensation.

 

…. _What's happening?_ ….

 

John moved his hand near his food to make a confused gesture, but didn't dare speak. Feeding on the curiosity, you couldn't help but push and probe further, feeling along his body in search of the heat and pressure. Bit by bit you started to go further through him, worried you'd pass right through like usual and wreck the mood you'd been building up to. You slid your lower body around to his lap, to tease at what you knew was the beginning of a tent the best you could, wanting to keep him on edge.

Another sense of pressure, heat, contact. You were sliding, slipping further through his chest in the hopes of chasing it one moment.. and the next, you were staring at a tabletop, fries resting under your fingertips. The sound of a well oxygenated tank were bubbling to your right, to the left was soft chatter and clattering from tabletops and trays, the squeak of shoes on tile, the distant hum of tanks and lights. You took a breath, more of a gasp, and jerked your head around for a moment.

 

… _Dave? Dave I can't stop moving my head, what's... Dave I can't move my arms, what's wrong with me, what happened?_ ….

 

John's voice was a whisper on the breeze that you had to hone in on, yet at the same time you could FEEL his words more than hear them. Could taste them even though his lips weren't moving. You carefully lifted your hand up and felt at your face, the buck teeth and thick framed glasses, higher to the wiry hair. You felt the hammer of a heart in your chest, the thrill of adrenaline rushing into your veins.

 

… _Dave I'm scared_ …

“Don't worry. It's okay, I've got this. We've got this. It's fine,” he said, though the sound of the borrowed voice was jarring. It wasn't quite John's, it certainly wasn't yours. It was more like you'd pulled your boyfriends identity on like a glove and were trying to make it fit properly, forcing in the wrong sizes and shapes but calling it good enough. You wondered what expression you had on right then.

…. _Dave. Dave, what's happening, I don't like this I'm scared_ …

 

The panic in his wisp of a voice was heartbreaking, and you raised a hand to the pendant you normally inhabited as a soothing touch. ..No. No, John wasn't in there. You put your hand over the thudding heartbeat instead and pressed, tried to lower your voice to a whisper.

 

“It's okay, it's just me. ..I don't know what happened. I don't know what this is, but it's just me. See?” you said, raising a hand to tug at your own hair a few times, though this time it actually stung at the scalp.

…. _I can kind of feel that still. ..Dave how did you do this? What the fuck is happening?_ ….

“Something awesome, I'm sure,” you said, then realized the food was still there. Many things were still there, actually. Your skin was electric with sensation, every hair standing on end, shivering if you moved too much. You were also acutely aware that you were erect in this body, both from earlier teasing of it and potentially from the rush of excitement you brought along with this.

 

..This was a possession. This was like what you did when John was asleep sometimes, but in a much more literal sense, more direct. You weren't conducting from outside, you were driving the damned train now and hoping you knew how to actually drive considering the lack of a license. Best to make the most of it.

The food was still there, calling your name. John's name, yes, but you wanted to experience eating again while you could. Especially since the food had looked so good and.. smelled so good now. Fucking shit you'd missed food. The fries were crunchy and salted well, the cheese sauce was thick and creamy, and the sandwich had both of those wonderful things slabbed alongside other good ingredients that would probably leave juices running down your chin. A few eager bites later, learning the right angle to bite with John's bad teeth in the first place, and you got the experience of becoming full again after so many years. The slide of something delicious heading down, chased by something sweet and crisp from the drink he'd purchased earlier. You couldn't put the flavor right in your mind, couldn't peg it, and didn't care.

It was delicious. It was amazing. It was all delicious.

 

…. _This is so fucking weird. It's like being a passenger or something. Or watching a video game. Is this dissociation?_ …

“No, it's possession. I think,” you said, carefully scooting the chair back and trying to stand when the food was gone and the tray had to be put away. Couldn't just sit here all fucking day sorting this out. This was probably a limited time thing, and you needed to make the most of it, or at the very least find the exit.

 

Needed to remember how to balance when walking, too. Standing was okay, but taking a step forward tangled both your borrowed feet and sent you and the garbage clattering on the floor, skidding a few feet from your grasp. A rush of voices and the click of shoes as people in the surrounding area came to your side to check on you, to help you up.

 

“Sir? Sir, are you okay? Do you need me to call for the medic?” came a worried voice. You turned your head to glance up, taking in the uniform, the name tag. Oh, cool, a good staff member on their game. The others picked up the tray and got rid of it for you before coming to rubberneck as you slowly got up onto all fours and worked on standing up with the help of the person who originally spoke to you.

“No, no, that won't be needed, thank you. I just got a bit dizzy.”

…. _Blood sugar_ …. came John's whisper.

“Blood sugar,” you repeated immediately. “You know how it is. Eat a good meal, get up too fast, down flat on your face you go like a falling tree. Did I bust anything?”

“No, no there's no damage here,” they said, smiling a bit once you were proving steady. “Your headphones came loose it looks like, but.. not a scratch that I can see. You're positive you're okay though, right? It's no trouble for me to call,” they offered again.

“Yeah, nah, I'm good. Just gotta get back to moving. I was wondering though, could you tell me which way to exit is? ...Actually, the exit and the gift shop?” you added after a moments thought.

“Oh, of course. There's an exit by the entrance, if you'd rather. But at this part of the aquarium, reaching the gift shop would be easiest, and there's an exit through the other side of it.” They turned, gestured with their arms clearly and peered over their shoulder to be sure you were watching. “If you go right his direction, then hang a left.. you'll go through two more exhibits. Then the gift shop should be right there.”

“Are the octopus and jellyfish near there?”

“Mhmm. The octopus is the last exhibit before the gift shop, and the jellyfish room is right before you take your turn. Got that?” they asked, turning to face you till you agreed everything was understood, then headed back to their station at the register, wishing you a good day.

 

…. _This is so embarrassing_ …

“It's fine, it's not like you're the one being embarrassed, this is second hand embarrassment in your own body,” you muttered as you headed off into the hallway with wobbly steps till you caught the balance and motion again. It felt more normal now, easier, more regulated than when you'd tried to walk with a familiar gait you only half remembered. John's legs were longer than yours were, of course you'd get tangled up.

 

The jellyfish room was gorgeous, dark enough that you had to squint a bit, but just as John said, lit from below with slowly shifting rainbow colors that illuminated the jellyfish like small globules of candy. Like clouds. Like something out of a dream. John instructed you on how to take a picture with his phone, and asked for a selfie when you'd done it right. ..It was definitely a picture worth saving. John's face looked so different with you at the wheel, his bright blue eyes a strange shade of nearly purple, expression far flatter compared to normal.

 

…. _Jade's gonna be so mad. You can reverse this, right?_ ….

“Of course. Can't be that hard, right? I mean. I fell in, I can probably fall right back out,” you promised as you took another shot.

…. _I wanted to show you this so bad, and now I can't. This is annoying._ ….

 

Teasing him, you cooed softly under your breath as you followed the directions from earlier, stopping to look at the octopus with its toys and hides, the long reach of the tenatcles that would reach and grab at things. You scooted forward till your face his the tank and John's glasses rattled, making you step back to awkwardly rub your face.

Fuck. Right. Right. Solid form now, right. Stupid. Very stupid.

You tried to save face by taking a few pictures instead, strange angles and positions that added a bit of an artsy edge that made you smile. John sighed and asked why you didn't just take the pictures head on as you finally made your way to the souvenir shop with its rush of post cards and plushies, books and learning kits and plastic toys big as you were. Some were amazing, others left much to be desired for the large price tag they had plastered onto them.

 

…. _Go ahead and pick something_ ….. John said softly. …. _I was going to have you do that anyway_ ….

 

You took your time, took into consideration the fact that you'd be back to dealing with your usual limits at home for the most part. Eventually you chose a jellyfish plush with long reaching rainbow tentacles, pearly and soft looking on the body, lacy frills beneath the bell. It would be light enough to throw the entire toy around, but have enough movement to get attention when you wanted it. John asked for a few postcards too, and the two of you talked softly back and forth till you sorted out ten cards to purchase with the money from John's wallet.

With bagged purchases in hand, you took yourself and John back out to the parking lot and towards the car.

 

…. _Okay, Dave, you can fall out now. ...Dave? Dave, we're at the car now, let me out._ ….

 

You unlocked the door and got settled into the driver's seat, buckled in safely. The keys found their way to the ignition, and you cranked the engine to life, listening to the purr from the engine before cranking the radio up.

 

…. _Dave. Wait, Dave, I'm not out yet, you need to fall out so I can drive us back._ ….

“Giving directions can't be that hard, right? I'll get us there, it's okay.”

 

How hard could driving be?

 


	10. Scattered Pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following a traumatic experience, you find your attention divided in twenty directions at once while you pick up the pieces of your lost evening and ruined day. You're certain you have all the pieces accounted for and it's time to finally take a rest.. till you realize the most important piece has fallen through the cracks. You can only hope you can find him before it's too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tumblr mirror - http://themockingcrows.tumblr.com/post/157740250642/whisper-just-for-me-ch-10-scattered-pieces

The driving hadn't been nearly as hard as you thought it would be once you took into consideration the brief disconnect of time from realization of what needed to be done to actually fulfilling the act with a borrowed body. The finesse wasn't there, but driving was indeed happening to the tune of a soft radio and John's panicked voice in your ears.  
  
…. _DAVE. Dave, Dave this is bad, Dave pull over what if something happens. Am I dying? Am I dead??_ ….

You wanted so badly to comfort him, but no amount of talking was going to comfort that fear. No. No, nothing was going to happen, John. Everything was just fine. You had this entirely in control.  
  


The oncoming car did not have it in control.  
  


A single moment was all it took, oncoming driver unaware of your vehicle as they pulled out onto the road, failing to look before springing into action, winding up in front of you before you could even hope to slam on the brakes and stop. You jerked the wheel sharply to the left, tried to lessen the impact, tried to do anything that your panic would allow you to do. Everything was going wrong, everything was going wrong oh God you couldn't think of how to make this be a bad dream.

One second you were driving. The next, you were becoming weightless as you heard John's scream come first from inside your head, then outside of it as the sound of metal grinding on metal rang out alongside a crunch. A sharp squeal of tires and John screaming. You screaming. Your borrowed voice and John's melded together before pain hit you and things went black as the final attempts to escape this situation failed.

You didn't remember your own death, and yet your last thoughts were a prayer that you weren't about to remember John's as you raised your hand to clasp tight at the pendant and tug the chain taught without even thinking.

 

\- - - - - -

 

Everything ached. There was a throb to your head that you began noticing was strong enough that your heart beating made everything feel too warm for a moment. You saw colors pulse behind your eyelids with every hint of a thought. Each inch of your body was in painful stasis.. and at least one potential broken bone judging from the radiating field of Nope that came from your right leg. Make that two. Your nose ached as if someone had punched you full force, and attempts to breathe out of it instead of your mouth was impossible. Something felt lodged in there, or swollen.. Hard to tell.

You finally opened your eyes and stared at the ceiling with its yellow tinted light and breathed deep the scent of bottled air and disinfectant. Curtains encircled your rooms borders, keeping it safe from an open hallway that lay beyond your blanket clad feet if your guesses about the unseen approaching and departing footsteps were right. Your glasses weren't on, so you couldn't be positive about anything beyond these blurred shapes and fuzzy edged lines.

A machine softly chirped just behind the edge of your bed, and after a bit more looking you realized just what all you were hooked up to. A pulse-ox clip covered your finger, bulky but barely there pressure of plastic letting them keep track of your vitals. The coil of an IV  was stuck in the back of your hand and taped in place, which also explained why your arm felt so chilled. You were kind of glad you couldn't see clearly, able to resist the temptation to lift the blankets covering you to try looking down at your leg, but you appeased yourself by lifting a hand up to gently test your nose. Aside from pain and the stuffy feeling, it seemed that there was a bandage setup on your nose and over the edges of your cheeks to guard the bridge.  
  


“John!” a familiar voice said from somewhere to your right. Shit, you hadn't even noticed anyone else was here, let alone so close. You blinked a few times in quick succession as Jade surged into view, crisper the closer she came. “Oh, John, you're finally awake again, I was -this- close to pinching you to wake you up. How do you feel? Do you need more painkiller? Should I call the nurse?”

“Again?” you asked quietly, racking your brain. You were pretty sure you'd remember being in the hospital, let alone getting here. “We were at the aquarium and then.... Jade, how'd you get here?”

“I'm your emergency contact on things, remember? Me and your dad? I think he might have been busy or his phone was on silent, but I answered after the first ring or two,” she said while rising from the chair she'd been inhabiting, setting aside her book and phone for now before leaning over you and hugging you tight as a vice. “It was a hell of a wreck, you're lucky you got out of it with a messed up leg and a bump on your head... What even happened, were you speeding? The other person's a bit messed up from their airbag, but they were on the far side. Could've been much worse.”

 

Oh thank God, there hadn't been any deaths.  
  
  
“My car..”

“Basically totaled, yeah, they had to cut the door to get you out, it wouldn't open right. We'll figure out what to do about that later though.”

“I don't.. I don't remember any of that,” you said with a frown, brows furrowing. “How long was I sleeping?”

“A few hours, not too long from what they told me. You were plenty awake and worked up when you first got in apparently, but you started napping before I got here. I've been waiting for you to wake back up this whole time. Augh, have you got any idea how scary it is to get a call from a hospital like that? Worded all ambiguous like you might be on your death bed and they don't want me to panic on the way over,” she said, and your chest clenched painfully when her words slowed to a wobble and her wide eyes filled with tears.  
  
Fuck. She hardly ever cried, shit, fuck, what had those idiots SAID? Who were you going to complain to later about unnecessarily freaking out your family? Who was going to taste your fists once you could get up and about?

 

“Shhh, I made it though, right? I'm okay now!” you tried to say hurriedly, awkward about how to fix things aside from pointing out the good side, tried to point out the positives and run a wild headlong gamut to keep the bad as far away as humanly possible. You were just one guy, though, and it didn't always work.

 

Jade flapped at your attempts to be soothing and removed her glasses so she could rub her sleeve over her eyes and dry them, snorting to stop her snuffles before they could get worse.  
  


“Don't even do that! Don't, it's okay, it just kind of hit,” she said with one more huffed snort to clear her sinuses and breathe easier. “Oh, right, right. Your dad knows what happened but he's not getting home till late apparently, he had to go out of state for business and the drive back's taking a while. I don't think they're going to admit you, but they were kind of ambiguous.. Once we're sure one way or the other we can tell him to either come here or go to your place when he's free. Sound good? I don't even know how long they're going to drag their feet just keeping you in the emergency room, a ton more people have come in and things have sounded hectic just since I got here.”

“Sound good, more like sounds -great-. I hope you at least kept him calm?”

“Calm enough as anyone can be after getting a message,” Jade sighed. “Damage done but at least soothed a bit. You waking back up and not showing any bad signs is great. You're all alert and making sense.”

 

You spent some time chitchatting, keeping each other calm and then going back to the usual routine of snarking and joking around. Your glasses frames had snapped from the airbag, but with a bit of medical tape and a promise to get your spares later or order another set, the gift of sight was returned to you. After more brief visits from a nurse checking on you over the course of a few hours, and administering some more exams, a doctor came in and discussed options with your x-rays in hand, and eventually got you sent off to get a cast put on. The break didn't seem serious enough to require surgery and there hadn't seemed to be any clots or venous damage, but there would be a few long months of being in a cast before you'd be given the okay to walk normally once more. Jade convinced you to go for a lighter blue cast on the premise of her wanting to draw all over it and dark blue not being good without paint markers on hand.  
  
It seemed you'd gotten exceptionally lucky. A broken leg, a nose that had to be re-set and bandaged, cuts and bruises along your face and forearms from the airbag, whiplash and mild concussion. Considering how terrible everything could have gone from start to finish, you were grateful for how things went. More updates to your father via Jade were met with excited return messages, happy that you weren't going to be facing any surgeries or more imminent problems and promising that he'd be sure to cook some of your favorite foods for you over the coming weeks while you healed.

With a prescription for pain medicine, a fresh set of crutches and several numbers to call related to followup care and information left by the police relating to your car, you finally were released to the world again with the recommendation of coming back if certain symptoms or signs began to appear. No need to end up in ICU over being stubborn, right?

 

Jade laughed at your awkward gait but helped stabilize you when you wobbled, unpracticed and impatient to get the pressure off your palms and armpits. It was quite a feat to get back home in the darkness and settled, but with Jade helping, everything went just fine. You were given access to remotes and fruit juice, and she even helped set up some snacks to keep near you on a tray, ready and waiting when hunger struck so you wouldn't have to hobble all the way to the kitchen and back with something clutched in your teeth at three in the morning.

It took till you were almost entirely settled, drowsing and relaxed and finally cozy to realize that something was off.

 

“... Dave?”

 

Jade looked over, then around, waiting for the usual thump or rush of breeze. When none came, she looked back towards you as you started to pat at your chest in a panic.

 

“Jade? Jade, where's the pendant?”

“It might be in the bag your other things were in, like your wallet and stuff,” she said, going to snag the  plastic bag emblazoned with the hospital's logo, rooting through it. “..Hm. Wallet, paperwork.. Cast care. Pamphlets.. I'm not seeing it in here. When did you last have it on? The hospital?”

 

With growing alarm, you sat more upright and glanced around, rubbing at the part of your chest where the pendant usually sat. After having Dave around for so long as a constant force, suddenly not having him nearby felt... wrong.

 

“I don't remember being at the hospital before I woke up. Where could it have gone? Would it still be in the car? I had it under my shirt all day, and I don't think Dave took it out when we switched..”

Jade frowned a bit. “Switched?”

“Yeah, we uh. ..I don't know how, but it's like he was in control of my body for a while? I don't know how it happened and it wasn't on purpose, don't even get that look on your face,” you instantly followed up, noticing the wariness in Jade's eyes increase. “We were on a date and something happened and suddenly he was in control of my body and I was just kind of stuck watching everything happen.”

“Well, could it be in reverse again then? Maybe you absorbed him or something during the wreck,” she said, lifting a finger to signal she needed a moment after her cell began to chirp insistently from her pocket. “Just a second, John, let me go take this.”

“Sure, take your time,” you say, trying to wrack your brain harder. Where the hell could it have gone? If Dave wasn't here, then you had exceeded the range of the pendant in one way or another. Maybe you could get Jade to check her car, make sure it hadn't slipped there. Or call the hospital to check and see if they'd spotted it. Really, the best option would be for you to be in different spaces personally, since you could see Dave so clearly now, but you weren't sure you were up to it or if it would really be a good idea.

 

..When had you last seem him, though? Before the car accident for sure, he'd been driving and it was terrifying to be in a moving vehicle with no sense of the boundaries of your own body anymore. You couldn't remember being in the hospital prior to waking up with Jade at your side, which was apparently nothing shocking according to the doctor. Traumatic incidents, repressed thoughts that may probably come back or may be lost forever. Sounded a bit weird to you considering it was just a broken leg, but then again you were into the fine art of parapsychology, not the intricacies of standardized psychology and the depth and breadth of variances for trauma responses. None of which were being helpful with remembering the last time the pendant had been around your body's neck.

 

“John? Your dad says he's willing to come this way if you want, but because it's so late he wanted to be sure you felt up to it. Backup plan is to bust in with a waffle iron in the morning,” Jade said, hand over her phone as she popped his head around the corner to pass along the information.

“What? Waffles? Uh, yeah that might be better if he's okay with it. I don't want him to go straight from being on the road to here, especially if I was going to maybe sleep soon.”

“Maybe sleep? Were you planning on staying up now that you're back?” she asked, hand over the mouthpiece of the phone to muffle her words. “Sure thing. I'll pass it on,” Jade promised as she ducked back around the corner.

 

You had to get up. You needed to know where Dave was. There was no way you could sit idly by and rest or relax knowing that the last time you'd been able to talk, things have been very very strange. What if he was still in the wreck with the pendant? What if it had been stolen? Who would even steal from an emergency patient, you wondered, but didn't have to think too hard. The world was full of good people who just wanted to help, but the world also held a lot of people who really should reconsider their job. How would you even find him if a theft HAD happened? How could he get hold of you?

While Jade was busy, you reached for your crutches again and struggled to get yourself up with only a few hard wobbles and a pained wince soon as your foot went downward. You didn't thunk it on the floor at least, but the difference between it being up and down was staggering as the difference between being hooked to an IV full of painkiller and fluids and coming down from it with only tablets to see you through your recovery for the foreseeable future. The aching throb slowly starting up was a pretty good indication of how bad this could get... you were glad you couldn't remember the actual break at all.

Dave wasn't in the apartment. Maybe he was down by the car? Or.. Or maybe at the hospital still, where was your phone? Jade didn't say it was in the bag, maybe it was but was out of sight. Or maybe it'd been in the car still? Oh, god. Your mind raced a million miles an hour as you locked up, looking between the plastic hospital bag and the front door, trying to debate your options.

 

“John, what the hell are you doing up? Couch! Go put your foot back up and lay back, you just got home, don't make things worse so you HAVE to go back!” Jade said as she returned, phone call apparently done in time to bust you red handed. “What's so important that you're needing up right this second, do you need the bathroom or something?”

“No! No, Jade, we need to go back to the hospital. Or my car. Or.. Or the curb by YOUR car, I don't know, we need to move though,” you insist, taking a determined crutch step towards the door before Jade could block you and try once more to guide you back to the couch. “Jade come on, we need to find Dave! I don't know where he is, this is important, it could be really bad!”

“What could be really bad? John, he's dead, I don't think he can really get any deader, and I'm sure he can at least wait for a little longer wherever he's at,” she urged. “It should be fine to wait till morning. I'll call the hospital, see if they have it in lost and found or something, let them know to keep an eye out and we can check back when it's actually morning. Maybe go from there after your dad visits. Sound good?”

 

You waver. Your leg is starting to throb even more, and the fire is racing up to your hip, down to your ankle, and lighting up more panic in the back of your mind. You were also realizing you were absolutely exhausted. What time even was it? Three am? Four? Did it even matter when you were this tired? Time had blurred the longer you had been in the hospital, and even now it was a bit blurry when you tried to focus on it and take in just how much time had passed between the normal wonderful morning and afternoon to now.  
  
  
“...But.. I can't just leave him somewhere, he's probably worried or scared. What if the last time he saw me I was unconscious or getting moved into an ambulance or something?” you asked, resisting a bit more before allowing Jade to gently escort you back to the couch.

“Dave's a grown dead person, he can be patient, John. Surely he'd be able to tell if you died?” Jade pointed out. “Yes, he's important, but right now you're hurt and I don't think he'd like you hurting yourself more for him. Wherever he is, he'll still be there in the morning, I'll be sure to find him with you okay?”

 

You sank back on the sofa and lifted your leg hurriedly to its formerly propped up position, relief flooding you again and fatigue roaring behind your eyes. That little bit had sapped more strength than you thought. Holy shit, you could sleep for a fucking week..

 

“...Yeah. Yeah, you're right Jade. I'm just worried,” you muttered, not protesting when she came to carefully take your glasses off and set the damaged frames aside on the coffee table. “I don't want him to be alone and scared somewhere, I want him here with me.”

 

She grinned a bit, at least you're pretty sure she did. Jade was close enough to make out the fuzzy edges of her mouth, and the position changed.

 

“You really do care about him, huh.”

“Well, yeah. I love him, Jade, I'm not kidding about that. I love him and I'm worried and I don't want him upset,” you say, pausing to let out a yawn that snuck up on you from behind and started to steal your consciousness away. “I don't want him alone anywhere ever again, if he doesn't get a say in it.”

“Just try to get a bit of rest right now,” she urged. “Your dad'll be here in the morning, you'll get your medicine in you again, and we'll be able to go find Dave. I'm going to crash in your room since the couch has you for now, okay? If you need me just holler. Your crutches are by the side of the couch.”  
  
“Where's my phone?”  
  
“I think it might have been in your car, let me go check your pockets,” Jade said, going back to the plastic to rummage around, smiling when she found it. “Oh hey, only a crack on the screen, not bad,” she said. “Do you want me to plug it in for you?”

“...Yeah. Yeah that might be better. Turn off the alarm, I don't want it on for the usual time, I don't think you'd appreciate lurching awake to that loud of a remix.”

“I figured not,” she said with a snort, pausing to rummage in your pant's pockets once more just in case the pendant was somehow there. Maybe Dave just wasn't talking? Could ghosts get hurt in accidents? There'd been talk of a 'switch', and such an unknown thing was making her more cautious. No dice. Damn.

 

Jade sighed and finally switched the light off, clunking along softly to the bathroom, then to your room after to continue shuffling around to get things plugged in and organized. You heard her toss and turn a bit to get comfortable, your own mind wandering in the dark to the tune of your rising and falling breaths.

… It was so quiet here without Dave rustling papers and knocking things over. It -felt- wrong. There was no cold kiss to your cheek, or pressure on your chest as he moved around, no glints of red at the corner of your eye. Jade was so close, but you still felt lonesome. Dave had been a constant in your life for so long now that suddenly having him gone was just... awful. You grimace and try to fight the bubble of anxiety in your chest and stomach down enough to sleep, grateful when your dreams picked up the slack and took you under.


	11. Surfacing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being apart is tough, but having dawning realizations of just how far apart you may be, potentially forever, is even harder. With new information about Dave coming to light, but no sign of the ghostly man himself, what options do you even have?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original tumblr post: http://themockingcrows.tumblr.com/post/160523838072/whisper-just-for-me-ch-11-surfacing

     If you weren't certain you were already dead, you would have thought you'd died and gone to some kind of strange afterlife. One minute you were in the car listening to distorted screaming and alternating between being able to feel the stabbing pain of injury and the vague sensation of being near something alive.. and the next you were in a quiet place you did not recognize at all. The pendant you were bound to did not rest around John's neck or anywhere near him that you could detect, but was resting in an open box instead. It looked shinier than before, looked like it had been buffed carefully, polished. The chain looked new as well, sturdy leather cord slick and freshly maintained, stark and dark against the intricate design of the pendant's face.

     This was not John's home. ..Was it Jade's home? Had she taken you there? Where was John? The car accident.. was he even okay? Was he still alive? The accident didn't feel like a death bringing one, but.. maybe it became that way after you lost focus and returned to the pendant. The need to find John was intense, but you needed to know for sure where the fuck you were first. If this was Jade's home, there would probably be a way to signal her or alert her to take you where you needed to go. She seemed to be in good humor lately about your closeness with John so.. surely that wouldn't be too big of an issue, right? There had been no aggression from her lately, no major questioning of your intentions or framing you as some evil being.

     Shouldn't be too hard, right?

     It would be more than hard. This was not Jade's home. Not in the slightest. For one thing, it was far too pink for what you'd assume of her. For another there was a nearly uncomfortable number of cat items around, spindly legs and reaching tails, curved mouth motif left and right. It was cozy but.. strange. Very much not what you pictured possible for Jade's room and very, very much not John's room. Not your own home. Nowhere you needed to be.

     Piles of books lay stacked on and around bookshelves, and the familiar shape of systems for games were settled in different positions near a television and another tall shelf. Some were familiar from John's house, the station and the box, but others were familiar because you knew them specifically from your own life. A proudly displayed NES and an SNES were very easy to spot, but it looked like they'd been heavily customized, altered, and repainted. Somehow, you felt they probably were sturdier and less prone to freezing and glitching than you remember.

     You had to nod in approval at the customized Zapper gun as well. The adjustment to the sight would probably make it a bit more accurate, and while pink wasn't really your color, you found yourself wishing you could grasp solid objects for a chance to make that fucking laughing dog eat your dirt in style.

     You form a more humanoid shape and drift beyond the immediate range of your pendant to continue poking around, rustling papers as you go, looking over information. ...Nope. DEFINITELY not Jade. The letters you rustle on a solid white desk are all addressed to someone named Roxy LaLonde. The address doesn't sound familiar anymore with how much things had changed, but judging from the city at least, you weren't that far from home. A town over from where you had been living and un-living for so long, unless things had changed even more drastically than you'd realized.

     Good that it wasn't another state.. but bad because that was so far out of range of where you needed to be.

     Maybe this person would be able to see you too, could be reasoned with, could help you go home. It wouldn't be too hard to bribe someone right? You recalled stories of ghosts when you were growing up, all bent on finishing some kind of business they had left undone while alive while going about their haunting duties. ...It wasn't business left from while you were alive, but.. business from your afterlife was just as important. Right?

     There had to be some kind of clause in the big book of ghost bullshit, some loophole you could exploit.

     This Roxy person wasn't home from the sound of it, so you decided to drift around some more. A laptop half taken apart was resting on a coffee table, unfinished chips in a bowl off to the side and two empty soda cans on the floor. Some kind of work station in range of the television. Were they taking it apart or putting it back together..? You make two small screws roll off the tabletop and slip beneath the couch, while a third is flung with reckless abandon to fall with a soft _tink_ of contact with the metal cover of a floor vent. There. Feeling a little better already.

     Couldn't immediately get home and check on John and go back to normal? Nothing a little destructive and disruptive tendencies couldn't cure. Temporarily yes, but it was still a cure enough at the time.

     Another computer was sitting near the corner, glowing soft, but much larger than the others. A desktop was what John called it, right? Didn't make that much sense, if the only reason it was called that was because it sat on top of a desk, but you probably just weren't understanding it clearly. There was probably some big distinction you just missed out on, but that was a worry for another time.

     You passed your hand over the keyboard, watched your transparent fingers slide right through them without so much as a second of hesitation, and let your head roll back in frustration. Computers could do anything. It could probably even find John if you could just figure out some way to make it work for you. ..Computers couldn't be bribed, right? Right.

     …. Right?

     A loud, demanding meow cuts the near silence that inhabited the room outside of your rustling and mischief. Rising up and turning in a surprised flip, you hand halfway upside down for a moment to take in the interloper. Fur black as pitch and wide bright eyes, twitchy tail, normal cat behavior. The twin spots above those eyes sure looked funny though, like extra eyes or some form of dotted eyebrow, and the fact they wiggled when the creature meowed loudly again at you didn't help them be any less amusing.

     You move a hand one way, then another, watching the attentive stare of the cat follow with laser precision. Curious, you drop your hand away and revert back to an orb, gently hovering and putting off red light. Much lower energy to do this, but the results were the exact same. No. The results were more pronounced. After a few energetic bobs and swirls in place, the cat suddenly chattered, wiggled its hind end and tried to launch into you. A dart away, and the cat was in hot pursuit, chasing and jumping and trying to swat you out of the air, not able to understand why it could get so close and feel the chill but not hit anything solid.

     The chattering soon turned to distressed, frustrated yowling and circling, pupils wide as dinner plates. ..Was it okay? Did you play with it too much? How much could cats play before they got sick or something? Shit, why didn't you know this, was this Roxy person going to come back to a suddenly dead cat?

     Luckily, the cat was still doing its distressed yowling sounds when the front door rattled gently from a key being turned, opening a bit faster than you first assumed a door could be flung open by one person. She was likely Roxy. This woman was attractive and seemed to have her own style, dark lipstick and bright shades of pink on her shirt and bag mixed with dark accessories in the form of dangling earrings and a cluster of busy looking bracelets on either wrist. The look on her face was one of concern, and she walked right through you to get to her cat after hurriedly shutting the door and dropping her bag. Her heels came loose from the back of her shoes, weight shifted forward to curl protectively around her pet after picking it up from the ground.

     “Ohhh, baby what's wrong? Mutie~. You feelin' alright..?” she crooned, voice a bit huskier than you had imagined upon first spotting her, but still pleasant to listen to. Roxy lifted a hand away from her riled up cat to slip a strand of pale hair behind her ear, shifting where the tight curl was ever so slightly but not loosening it at all.

     The cat meowed softly a few times in response, talkative, before it locked eyes on where you were drifting over its mother's shoulder and hissed. Roxy whipped around to look, face inches away from where you were resting, and looked right through you. You could see the chill run down her spine and the gentle lift of goose flesh as she rocked her heels back and stood with the cat safely in her arms.

     She was blind to you, but she could definitely tell something was there. Not perfect, but you'd take it. Maybe there was a way to perform a subtle haunting sufficiently enough to be returned to John specifically instead of just having the pendant tossed in the trash for being the source of something scary.

     ….. _damn it_ …..

     Another loud hiss came from the cat, swatting your direction before scrambling to kick free from its owner's arms, earning a quiet curse and a confused huff from Roxy.

     “Hey, HEY! What's gotten into you? Mutie! … Ugh. Maybe he's getting sick,” she mumbled in a tone that belied her attempts at calm. Her gaze was slightly furtive now, cautious, paranoid. Something was in her home now. Something was different somehow.. but she couldn't quite put her finger on it yet.

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

     “Dad, I don't think I could eat any more if I tried,” you say with a tired sigh. You'd eaten a good deal because you were half starved and loved your father's breakfast foods, but the concern was messing with how your meal was settling. You were stuck hoping it would stop soon. Couldn't exactly do a great job of literal ghost hunting if you felt sick AND had a messed up leg.

     “You tucked away plenty, I'll consider that a success,” your father chuckled, spearing a piece of waffle and chasing some syrup around on his plate to soak it up before lifting it to his mouth to devour. “I'd have been more worried if you couldn't eat at all, but after what you've been through and the medicine they have you on? This is more than enough. Good job.”

     “Oh. Right, I should probably take my medicine now that I've eaten, huh,” you murmured, realizing belatedly that Jade was already getting up to fetch it and keep you off your crutches as long as possible. Seems she really was serious about that whole 'as much rest as possible' thing. You took a moment to count out the two tablets you needed from one bottle, and the single tablet from another before downing them with the remnants of your orange juice. “Man, I'm gonna be a zombie later now.”

     “Hey, I'd rather you be a zombie and play the same section of a video game for a few hours or make stupid posts online than have you running around hurting yourself more,” Jade said.

     “Running around?” your dad asked, looking a bit confused. “I know it's probably just a turn of phrase, but I also know how impatient you can be. You're not planning on getting up and moving around a good deal already, are you son?”

     “Well. Yes and no? I'm not planning on going anywhere for fun, I just need to run a few important errands.”

     “If it's important, I'm sure I could help out. You're never too old to have your dad help you out, you know,” he said, rising to go take care of the dishes so they wouldn't pile up. “People tend to be rather forgiving after car accidents, injuries, and when faced with parents saying they're helping their children. It would be no problem.”

     “I. Well. I mean, I appreciate it a lot Dad, and if it were anything else I'd ask for help but..” you said, hesitating a bit. “I think it's something I'll need to do mostly alone.”

     “Oh? What's so important that it can't wait?”

     “I lost something really important, but I don't know if it was from during the crash or afterward, and I need it back immediately,” you tried to explain. “It's really -really- important, I need to be sure it gets back to me and back in place fast. I still don't know how it went missing in the first place.”

     “Is it something expensive? Or something that's not yours?” he continued.

     “No, no, it's mine. And it's.. not expensive I don't think? Not very at least. But it's really important to me.”

     “Sentimental value turned good luck charm,” Jade piped up, trying to save you from starting to explain that, no Dad, it's a necklace that's magically holding my ghostly boyfriend tethered to this mortal plane of existence and I promise I'm not losing my grip on reality, would you like to see him rattle the papers on my shelf when he gets back home?

     “..If it went missing AFTER your accident, I can't imagine it was doing a very good job of being lucky before that,” he pointed out. “But if it means that much to you, just try your best to be careful and rest when you need to, I'd have for you to have to be stuck in that cast even longer.”

     You could clearly detect the fathery disapproval in his voice, but knew it wasn't the worst it could be. He knew you were an adult who made occasionally silly decisions, but as it wasn't one that could hurt you, there wasn't much for him to wrack his brain over or stress himself with. Just frown and shake his head because it wasn't what he himself would do in the same situation.

     “Thanks, Dad. How long can you stick around?”

     “Not long. I'd much prefer to stick around all day, but there's so many things that only I can manage to get done on the job, I can't stay gone forever. Would you like me to come visit again tomorrow?” he hummed. “I can see about making some other things for you, maybe we can watch some movies. Jade, you're doing great at keeping things running so far, but you be sure to rest too. Keep on top of your own affairs.”

     “I am, don't worry. Most of what I need day to day is on my laptop and I keep that in my bag anyway,” Jade said, rising to go help clean up the waffle iron so it could be put back into your father's car without making a mess.

     He remained for another half hour before he finally wound up leaving, kissing your cheek and giving Jade a hug before donning his hat and heading outside. You sighed and leaned back to watch the ceiling when you were finally alone with Jade again, glancing over.

     “...So. Do you have any ideas where we could start looking?”

     “Where -I- could start looking,” she said, pulling out her laptop to check a few things. “You're going to rest here. I'm going to take my non-cast-wearing ass out and check the hospital, see if I can check with your car. Maybe the ambulance, even, if there's some way to get in contact with the one that brought you in to the hospital.”

     A moment or two of scrolling and humming later, Jade was taking her phone out to snap a few pictures for easier access later on, tapping out a memo along with it before she was satisfied.

     “There.. That should do it. I don't think I'm forgetting anything. If we can't find it THIS way then..”

     “Then?” you ask worriedly. “Then what.”

     “Then.. we put up an ad or something, maybe. There's.. John, there's not much we CAN do if I can't find that thing. Maybe we'll just drive around a lot and you can see if you feel him. I'm not sure what else to really do aside from checking out mentions of hauntings that turn up.”

     “Check what out?”

     “Yeah, like, listening for rumors about ghosts and investigating? See if it's Dave or not?” Jade said, flipping to her email and casually scrolling down on her laptop. “If it was a sudden haunting it would probably wind up on some forum or another, or some local newspaper. People love to talk or ask questions about things. Keep an eye out for the description of him you know and his normal actions, we might strike gold and know where to volunteer our 'services'.”

     You couldn't help but look starstruck enough that Jade finally noticed and frowned in confusion.

     “What? Why are you looking at me like that? There's no way your medicine's knocked you flat that fast, right?”

     “Jade. JADE. Jade, I know we'd be doing it all just to find Dave but. Jade. Jade, do you realize the implications of that?!” you asked, bouncing a little in place, feeling your mood lifting like a balloon. “We'd basically just be a low budget version of Ghostbusters! I know all about paranormal things already, you've learned too, and we both have practice with Dave, and we know the equipment. ..Ohhh what if we tried to do that even after Dave gets home? Maybe he's able to talk to other ghosts. Jade, we could learn so much!”

     She sighed and removed her glasses to rub at the bridge of her nose for a moment.

     “I was wondering why you suddenly looked so hyped up. Yes, yes, I guess that is pretty similar. Let's save the busting hype for after we find the one person we're really hunting for though, okay? It'd be kind of dumb to plan a lot of fun things out and not have our mascot back.”

     “Mascot? ...Heh. I guess he kind of is at this point, huh,” you admitted, tipping your head to the side when Jade got a funny look on her face, looking at her screen once more. “What's up? Already get some kind of lead?”

     “..Not quite. I don't think at least. Remember how I was looking up more things on Dave? Tried to get in contact with someone that might be family?” she asked, clicking a few times to open the email up, and then another few times to open an attachment. Jade held her breath for a moment, then released it out her nose in a sigh. “I think we definitely got a hit.”

     You sat up straighter to be able to see even as she brought the laptop to you for a look, and the image she displayed was enough to leave you feeling like you'd been punched in the gut. The colors were a bit off, older cameras not being the utmost quality, but the face was unmistakable: Dave. Dave, when he was still living and breathing. Dave in a long sleeve shirt and tousled hair, loose dark jeans and the faintest curl of a grin. He was lounging on a sofa with a big bowl of chips beside him and a can of coke in one hand, and you felt the chill run down your spine when you realized you recognized the crown molding and window placement.

     That picture had been taken here. Dave had been in this apartment, probably where you were sitting, years and years ago, and there was photographic proof.

     “Print it,” you said without even thinking.“What else did the email say?”

     “His brother said he'd be alright with meeting up sometime to talk, but his schedule's packed. I'll see when he's open. ..that sound good?”

     “Yeah,” you said quietly, still a bit stunned. Your printer started to whir to life in the distance, bringing the copy of the photo to life, and Jade set her computer down to go collect it when it was finished. “Yeah, that sounds fine. I get that this probably wouldn't be something to talk about over email or the phone.”

     With the picture held in your hands, the ache in your chest returned with a vengeance. How would Dave react when he saw this? Would he react positively? Or would he destroy the entire apartment and start learning how to light fires? You'd finally know how he died. ..You just hoped that him learning what happened wouldn't be some key to make him move on to the afterlife forcibly.

     “I'm going to get going, see if I can find the pendant in a lost and found bin or hear if anyone's seen it,” she said, tucking her computer away for now into her bag. “I'll keep an ear out for rattling papers and stuff, too. My phone will be on, try to rest up. Order some takeout if you want, don't make yourself stand and cook if you don't want to. If I come back and you're even more hurt, I'm gonna be grumpy,” Jade warned.

     “Yeah,” you said, distracted, staring at the picture still. You'd seen Dave clearly, you thought, but never THIS clear. Never without the red tint or the faint glow. He really was cute, even in this form, and you couldn't help but wonder what he was like personality-wise when he was alive. Just as snarky and excitable as he was now?

     “...Don't worry, John. We'll find him somehow,” Jade said, coming close once more to hug you around the shoulders. “We'll get Dave home one way or another.”

     “I hope so, Jade. I really hope so.”

 


	12. Shadows Past And Present

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being separated from Dave is continuing to prove painful, and keeping positive is harder and harder. You're not sure how long you can keep it up, really, but Jade continues to work miracles where she can. For instance, it's all thanks to her that you're both finally getting to meet Dave's surviving relative and learn more about him. Hopefully learning his past will help your present and Dave's future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tumblr mirror: http://themockingcrows.tumblr.com/post/164085630442/whisper-just-for-me-ch-12-shadows-past-and

     This Roxy girl, while unable to see you directly, was extremely observant in other ways. Everything you knocked over or threw around was noticed even if she was not there to witness, as if she had a picture perfect memory of what her home looked like prior to walking out with her keys and bag. Similarly, she was somehow able to tell it was not the doing of her cat, and you weren't certain just how that was. Not bad for a week or two of practice, you'd be proud if you weren't busy mourning that observance halting literally an inch in front of your own face or anything useful towards getting you home.

     You could hover upside down beside her while she surfed (Was that what it was? You'd heard the phrase in movies John watched, read on the bright screen of his computer over his shoulder, but you'd never really focused on hearing anyone say it aloud..) the internet, and she would just keep typing, the only sign of something causing her discomfort or distress being the faint crease between her sharp brows.

     The cat was another story. You were getting a good deal of fun out of tormenting that fur ball with your simple presence, and if that presence involved playfully swatting at its bottle brushed tail or popping up out of the flooring slowly and following it around acting like you were going to touch its favorite toys, then so be it. Entertainment was all around you in this place, but without being alive, it was.. limiting. Most of the things Roxy did were fun were found in different electronics, even some of her books! You'd caught her pulling a little slab of a screen out of her bag and thumbing along till she had gotten to a bookmarked p, age of text, which she then toted around the apartment with her all the rest of the evening. She even took it in the bath from what you'd seen prior to your hasty exit.

     For some reason, peeping on her felt different than peeping on John...Didn't entirely stop you, but the peeks were brief and curious, appreciative before leaving to dart around knocking things off shelves.

     Roxy's hanging pans and pots were definitely fun to rattle and toss around, as were her drawers of socks. There were so many colors and types, and different designs, they looked like ribbons when they fell into heaps on the floor. At first she'd feared a robbery, coming home to that, and had wandered the house with a kitchen knife before taking her bedding to the bathroom and sleeping in the tub with her (angry, protective, fluffy) cat till dawn with the door locked and the light on.

     Now? She was used to it and annoyed.

     She would speak to you, but not at you personally. You had become her 'Casper'. Fitting, you supposed, but no less obnoxious. You contemplated how much energy it would take to spell your name out on the floor in socks, but realized it wouldn't matter. A name wouldn't get you home, and there weren't enough socks in the house to explain an address. Managing a pen would be doable, if not scrawled, and you didn't dare risk possessing her after a brief desperate prodding at her physical and mental hold felt like being stung.

     Her dreams were blocked to you, guarded, and secretive. Frustrating. You missed John's easy to access mind, his lack of reservations, how open he was. ..Maybe it's because for all Roxy's ghost jokes, she didn't fully believe in them at all outside of stories. Or, more specifically, that she didn't believe they'd be around HER or in her previously calm, entirely ghost free home.

     You wished she'd leave one of the game systems on sometime. Little electrical pulses, little pushes, you could manage. Perhaps with those buttons so close together, you'd even be able to play something that required some timing. Master of Mario you wouldn't be again without some hands, most likely, but surely you could explore some of the larger worlds that had lit up this girl's television screen. Her computer too, actually.

     W to move forward, S for back, D and A for right and left. Clicks of the mouse to select actions and do things and speak to people. Simple gestures. If she'd just leave them open, you wouldn't need to exhaust yourself getting them into position to access them in the first place, and you might be able to play!

     Roxy carried her laptop from her living room to her bedroom, screen lit up to some kind of mail. ..E-mail? No, no. Instant mail. Instant _message,_ John already taught you this, don't forget it! You'd watched John talk and learned the little shortened messages and what they meant all on your own, even spouted them back at him with the planchette before. You'd talked to Rose on that Skype thing, had seen her on screen and she'd seen you, how could you forget that! This wasn't the Skype thing, but you were half sure you'd seen it or something similar before.

     ...If you'd lived, would you be an adult enjoying these things on your own now? Or would you be older and gray? How old would you even be, for certain? You'd just thought of that with John before, but now it was a struggle. Time felt funny, slower, and you lost track of what you were doing and where you were, chest aching. The world faded to darkness.

     When you were aware again and out of your daze, Roxy wasn't home, and it was potentially afternoon judging from the light streaming in the windows. Mutini was dozing on her pillow with his feet in the air, a living plushie with too much tuna-flavored stuffing and a bat attitude. Her laptop rested, still open, on a small lap desk. Leftovers from either an early meal or a late night snack rested on a plate on top of the wrinkled blankets, crusts from a sandwich and a few crumbles of ridged potato chips. There was a small bar on the bottom right that was keeping track of a percentage, text flying fast enough that you couldn't keep up with what was being said below the numbers and the bar. It was about 60% complete now, whatever it was, and showed no signs of slowing down as it ticked up to 61%.

     Her messages had been left open, two separate windows over top of a third. You recognized the multicolored internet symbol as the same kind John would click and complain about the provider of if it took more than a breath to load something, and loomed closer to get a proper look at it upside down before sinking down into the mattress.

     Mutini startled awake when your chill brushed his tail, hissed wildly and tore off for the living room.

     Purple text color, bright but easy enough to read. You'd seen a lot of text colors over John's shoulder when he used a different kind of window, liked how the blue looked, and remembered he had a friend who used this kind of purple as well. The words were crisp, precise, and clearly written compared to the pink above it. You were willing to bet the pink was Roxy's writing, and were surprised by how garbled it looked, even if she was able to edit it to get her meaning across afterward with the little stars. You squinted a bit and sorted through the corrections. ..Oh. The files were multiple games, music, and other files, all coming in bulk. She'd started it last night and it was only in the 60%'s? You supposed even enhanced speed of modern technology just couldn't instantly make something appear like that once it was over a certain size. Maybe further in the future, then.

     Roxy had apparently left this person with the purple text hanging without a reply, and you were frustrated on their behalf. Didn't sound urgent at least, more of a conversation that had been neglected.

 

**TT: Are you asleep already?**

**TT: Oh. Odds are you're at work now, looking at the time. Kudos for keeping the job this time around instead of quitting because you got bored of others on your shift fucking everything up. Maybe you'll manage to change some of their habits by being the good example, get more positive things on paper that for some reason your prior qualifications weren't enough to convey on their own.**

**TT: Wait, does that mean you didn't sleep at all before going in? I don't know how you do it, I'd kill to stay awake longer and keep functioning that well. Or at least kill to get a good, uninterrupted night's sleep for once. There's been a lot going on here lately as usual, and on top of that some friends are having issues as well so that's been keeping me busy.**

**TT: Do you know how tiring it is to advise someone who's lost something they couldn't even properly see till a few months ago themselves? Like helping someone find a lost puppy, but nobody else can see the puppy or hear it, and it won't die if you forget to feed it so you can't even hope to find a body for a resolution.**

**TT: I suppose a body could be found easily enough if they looked through enough records, if he wasn't cremated and scattered, but it's not a body they're wanting to find. It's a big mess all around.**

 

     You frowned a bit and re-read what had been typed as recently as an hour ago according ton the time stamp. That was definitely a weird thing to say. Maybe this person was a detective who didn't deal with face to face things? Maybe it was online hunting and tracking. No bodies there, just data and energy, the only pulse an electrical hum and the steady beep of a wireless connection.

     A second message window was open behind the one with purple text, bright cyan letters and a cheerful way of speaking from the bit you could make out of the conversation. Bits and pieces, didn't really make sense. Behind that was the internet, open to a step-by-step site you had seen John pull open and try to use when he'd first become aware you were co-habitating with him.

     So she realized there was some kind of a haunting happening at least for sure, and just wasn't going out of her way to hunt you down..? It was strange to realize. John was so focused on getting proof of you, to communicate with you, give you attention, that being acknowledged in passing and otherwise left along felt strange. Lacking. Akin to being completely ignored, especially since she wasn't bothering to find your fucking name.

     Casper. Bah.

     Fuck Casper, you weren't a friendly fucking ghost, you were a grown ass adult who-. ...Right? Grown adult. Or nearly? Fuck, not this again, stop thinking, stop thinking. You didn't want to risk losing time again in confusion or your own thoughts, not sure what was happening with that, not liking it. What if it became more permanent? How would you ever get home then? ..Was it because you were away from home so long now? From where you'd lived..?

     Panic seized you, and you stared at the screen once more with purpose, to the open messenger. The keys made the letters when they were pressed with enough force, and if there was someone ready and waiting on the other end who was good at finding people, maybe they could help. You'd never tried to hunt someone down yourself before, let alone with these limitations in place, and definitely not in this year. This person sounded like it was their business to find people online, maybe they could find John online for you.

     ..COULD you type?

     Pressing the tiny individual keys would be tiring, as would the attempts at not shorting the device out just by touching it.. Sucking batteries dry and overloading other things, what a fucking life. This computer looked much newer than John's though, shiny and fairly thin save for what looked like some manually added hardware attached to the outside and secured in place. Maybe because this was newer, stronger, and you were very determined it would be possible?

     If so, you'd have to talk to John about that messaging idea he'd brought up before when you got home successfully, to open another venue for talking to him and others. John could hear you now, could feel you when you were together, but Jade was still harder to reach now and then. Clearly speaking would be amazing and worth the fatigue afterward if you could rest. Maybe you'd even get to type in your own color, be different from everything else. Perhaps even keep a messenger open so you could talk to John on the go, like he said before..!

     No more guessing and wondering, then, it was now or fucking never and forever being apart from the person you loved. Risks had to be taken, what the fuck was there left to lose!

     Psyching yourself up, you finally reached a hand out over the keys and focused on the letters you wanted, trying to will them down with the same force you used to knock over books and papers or fling socks with without potentially wrecking the thing. A sense of panic rose up in your chest as the climbing percentage bar slowed to a halt along with the rest of the words flying by underneath.

 

**TG: h**

 

     Okay. You got a letter. It was tiring in another new way, a deep pull of giving up energy to this machine while hoping to not take too much from it in turn by mistake, but you had gotten a letter without too much issue. Now for the rest.

 

**TG: help me**

 

     There. That was clear enough, right? You needed help, so you were asking for it, what else were you supposed to say? Oh, shit, right. People liked manners when you were asking favors, right? Wouldn't want to be rude. Floating and scaring people was one thing, but speaking in text somehow brought out memories of at least attempting to kiss up to people in the past, remembering manners he had no need for anymore while incorporeal.

 

**TG: help me please**

 

     Enter was how these were sent, right? There was a little button beside the text that said send, but you didn't want to try fucking with the mouse at all to touch it. Instead, you went for Enter and hoped it worked. The message blinked away, and reappeared up underneath the purple text in bright pink. Satisfaction filled you, but was quickly replaced by dread as the loading bar flickered to life and then stalled once more. ..Was that your fault?

     Quick as a flash, the messenger dinged softly and purple text flared to life anew.

 

**TT: What's wrong? Are you alright? What do you need help with?**

 

     Fuck! Someone was really live over there! That was a quick response, you were communicating live! Don't panic, don't panic, just. Move the keys again.

 

**TG: lost**

 

     The fan suddenly started up inside the laptop, cooling it down as it began to pump out more and more heat. That had to be your fault. You were tiring yourself out just with this much, restraining as much of the potential damage as you could but still trying to force the buttons to move on your unseen command, and you could imagine the strain being put on this machine from the parts you weren't able to control. Shit, had to get it across at least!

 

**TT: What did you lose? Oh, no, did you misplace something again. What is it this time.**

**TG: john**

**TT: What?**

 

     ..John. John what. You were having trouble remembering his last name. You knew it well as you knew his face, what the fuck was the problem, what was happening, why couldn't you remember his last name? The fan wavered as if it were going to turn off, and the screen flickered for a moment, neither of which you could care about.

     You couldn't remember John's last name anymore.

     Panic turning to rage and sorrow, you stopped trying to block yourself from the keys, stopped caring about damaging them, and unleashed yourself as hurriedly as you could

 

**TG: john john john john john jo**

**TG: hn john help me help john helpmeh**

**TG: elpjohnhelphelp helphelphelphomejohn**

**TG: homehelphome hel**

 

     The last string was sent in a frenzy, hammering the Enter button and seeing the pink fill the screen before it all went black. The fan had turned off, as had the computer itself, and you couldn't stop shaking. Fatigue was trying to drag you under even in your misery, and you wanted to do anything but sleep now. You wanted to be home, you wanted to stop forgetting things, you wanted everything to stop hurting.

     You wanted John.

     Things went dark again, and you felt the pull of the pendant willing you to return to rest, a slowly pulsing red heartbeat that nobody in this building could properly see.

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

     “Thank you for meeting with us, Mr. Strider,” you said, adjusting your crutches off to the side. It had gotten a lot easier to wander around with them, even if they did leave your palms feeling abused and your armpits sore, the mobility was worth it. Jade had convinced you to stay at home long enough to heal up and rest after a few shifts at work, and all of it was worth it just to make it to this meeting a few cities away. You and Jade had woken early, taken off after dawn, and driven till you arrived at an older theme restaurant. Odd place for a meeting but beggars couldn't be choosers, and with how heartsick and stressed you were with Dave missing, any strings of information held the promise of making you feel less separated from him.

     It had been instantly obvious which table held the man you were to meet with.

     From looking at Dave's picture and trying to guess numbers and ages, you couldn't tell for sure if this guy was his brother or his dad. Then again, with how much time had passed since Dave's death, it was no surprise the man looked fairly old either way. Pale blonde hair that poked out from underneath a gray baseball cap was streaked here and there with sprinkles of salt and pepper, more noticeable when he peeled the hat off to rough up the strands with calloused looking fingers. The sunglasses were a gag you were sure, some leftover tidbit from an anime convention or abandoned stock in a store. His eyes when he removed the sharp points of plastic were a shade John had never seen before, nearly orange gold in the light, and permanently exhausted looking from the bags beneath them. Dark, well worn in circles beneath each.

     “Sorry it wasn't sooner, I run my own business and it's hard to find any down time, but you already know that considerin' how you found me,” he said. You focused in on the tone, caught similar sounds of Dave's whispery voice, and shivered. Not bad, just. ..Strange. So similar but just different enough, and of all things: alive. “Go ahead and order whatever you want, tab'll be on me for makin' you two schlep all the way up here. I'd recommend the burgers personally, the pizza's more like a greasy napkin with tasty toppings on top.”

     “I think I'll take that into consideration,” Jade said, reaching for a menu and peering over it. “..What a weird place though. It's like a knockoff Chuck E. Cheese. Creepy looking puppet theme all over the place.”

     “Think some pictures and décor is wild, you should check out the animatronics themselves,” the man said. “They're like a huge music box working four separate bodies on one central hub, but when they move the music is some regurgitated blend of rock, pop, and attempts at rap if the audio doesn't fizzle out on the main bot's speakers.”

     “You must come here a lot then,” you guessed, peering down at the food. Aside from pizza and burgers, there was standard restaurant fare and what looked like a pretty good ice cream sundae you'd need to investigate for dessert. “Can I ask what to call you, actually? I can't just keep calling you Mr. Strider.”

     “Depends which one you want. Real one, one I work under for the company, or what friends call me?” he asked, leading Jade to lift a brow at him.

     “...That's a bit weird, just saying. Let's go with what you'd rather we call you, then. Real name would be a good backup, if you respond to it at all. Your website was pretty sparse on much else than what you were marketing.”

     “Hah, still surprised you spent so much time on there tryin' to track me down, if I'd known what this was about I'd have checked my spam folder sooner. Just call me Bro, then. Everyone falls back on that. Apparently I don't look like a Broderick kind of guy since I'm not headlining on a soap opera,” he said, giving an idle looking through the menu even if he knew everything on it by heart by now. When a waitress appeared a moment later, he added his soda order along with your drinks, with a request to hold the ice on his. He also asked for the pizza, with a mention he'd think about dessert later and might add more to his order.

     “I thought you said the pizza was garbage?” you asked, wondering if it had been a joke and if you'd regret your burger later when it arrived.

     “Oh, it is. It's absolute garbage. But it's pretty tasty garbage, if you're used to it.”

     “...Can I ask why you wanted to meet here of all places?” you asked finally. “I mean. I know it was because you were busy and we needed to come this way, but there's all kinds of places around. Why this spot?”

     “Because when it was brand new, Dave used to like it. He was really little at the time. Same garbage pizza, games in the back, lights, music, other kids running around. He wasn't big on the animatronics, that was more my thing, but long as we didn't go near the stage he liked it just fine. Had a few birthdays here, his request. I come back around once in a while. Usually in winter, though.”

     “Why winter?” Jade asked.

     “His birthday was in December, so I guess it's just habit. Still smells the same after all these years. Dunno if that's a good thing or something for a health inspector to worry about,” Bro said with an amused snort.

     Three tall glasses of soda arrived on a black plastic tray carried by the same waitress, and were divvied up between the three of you along with napkins, hot sauce, and a slick glass bottle of name brand ketchup. Bro asked if she had any honey mustard, or ranch, and was told that she'd look around for him just in case, but warned that they were probably out again.

     “Before we get into all these questions I know you've got, I gotta ask: why are you askin' questions in the first place? Who's Dave to you, you're pretty young to be askin' about him.” He paused, squinted a bit. “Or not. I can't tell that well from this angle, you've got baby faces. You kids of a classmate of his or..?”

     “I live where he used to. Or where you both used to?” you said hesitantly. “And. ...A lot of strange things have happened. Which led me to find his name, and to find you. I want to know about him, and I can't find _anything_ about either of you, so I just. ..I just needed to find out what was happening.”

     “What kind of strange things,” Bro said, sounding hesitant for once. “..What, you gonna try feedin' me some line about ghosts or some shit? Kid, if there's an afterlife, I'm sure Dave's already up there sleeping till the afternoon and polishing his halo when he ain't doing aerial stunts.”

     “Like I said, some strange things! And. ..And what if I am,” you said, hoping you didn't just doom the conversation entirely. “What would you say if I said he'd been hanging around where I live still, and that the reason I wanted to ask about him was to understand why.”

     “Bullshit,” Bro said bluntly. “Kid would've moved on, there's nothing there for him. Not anymore.”

     “Okay, then he moved on and there's still something weird happening that's linked to him. Can I at least get to know about him? Or about who he was?” you ask again, trying to keep calm. You're almost glad that Dave wasn't with you right then, unsure of how he'd be reacting to his family, or if he was even ready for that. If he wouldn't just instantly disappear upon seeing him.

     Bro looked uncomfortable, cornered, and spent a good minute and a half fucking around with his soda and straw, chasing bubbles and avoiding talking. It had been decades, and apparently the subject was still a store one. You were almost positive he'd call everything off and bolt.

     “...You would've liked him,” he finally said in a quiet tone. “Everyone liked him that I could see. Real charmer, even if he had a mouth on him. Got in and out of trouble faster than anyone has a right to, but none of it ever stuck. Nothing serious ever, he was a good kid, just.. Y'know. Stupid kid shit brand trouble.”

     You nodded and held your glass close to sip from the straw slowly, and glanced to your side to catch Jade's face in your sight. She had taken out a notebook and was jotting down a few memos on it as a precaution. Any slip of information she could catch, she'd make a note on for later, just in case he suddenly balked and left.

     “How old was he when he died?” you asked, trying to go with as tame a question as you could manage. “Youngish?”

     “Not quite twenty. Day after he turned eighteen, he started talkin' about wanting to live on his own, go to school, get a job. We argued about it. I didn't have the company back then, funds were tight and I wouldn't be able to help him with paying rent very much or bailing his ass out if he landed in hot water. Didn't feel right, felt like a huge waste of money. It would've been easier if he just stayed home and commuted places.” Bro went quiet for a moment, then smiled a little. “So of course soon as I said 'No', he went and found a job and busted his ass savin' money. I signed the lease for him since the owner of the building was a hard ass about his age, and said I'd take responsibility for any property damage so he'd let a younger dude live there instead of an adult, yadda yadda. ..Things were a lot different back then.”

     Jade pursed her lips a bit as she wrote. ..Eighteen when he got the place, but that was different from what she'd found out over time and pieced together. The lease was for two years, and he'd gotten the place at eighteen, and died before he was twenty? Dave had said he WAS eighteen when questioned. Was he remembering wrong? Or just remembering how old he was when he first moved in to the apartment? Research had showed that sometimes spirits memories were locked in on one specific point or age, and if moving in to that apartment had meant so much to him, maybe that's why he was remembering it so specifically. He also didn't seem to either remember or WANT to remember how he'd died, so perhaps avoiding his real age for another reason..?

     “My Dad had to co-sign my lease when I got my place at first, but we transferred it soon as we could,” you said with a slight grin. “They were finnicky about me too, but trusted him. I keep expecting a knock at my door and a note being pinned there saying 'sorry, but we changed our minds'.”

     “No shit? Wonder if it's the same guy who owns it, or if he passed it on to a family member or somethin'. It was privately owned, not run by some corporation, or at least it was back then.”

     “Tubby bald guy with a mole on his neck?” you offered, and snickered when Bro nodded a few times.

     “Wasn't bald before, but that sounds familiar. Dave was there for over a year, and we just never bothered to swap the lease over to be in his name when the second year's lease started up. The setup was good and it kept that guy mostly off his ass, and I had it written in my own paperwork as Dave renting from me as a sub-letter. He'd have a squeaky clean rental history far as anyone was concerned whenever he decided to move somewhere else, never late with his payments or nothin'. After he passed, I kept making payments on the place because I couldn't bring myself to go clean it out, was worth bleedin' myself dry over to avoid. ..When I finally did, lease was up and I couldn't bullshit myself anymore, cleaned it up and moved everything out.”

     “Sounds like you helped him out a lot,” Jade said. “And it sounds like he enjoyed that apartment a lot, too.”

     “Oh yeah. His castle, basically, same as everyone else who gets their first place. Dave was proud as hell of that little slice of heaven, even though the AC hardly ever worked and the place needed some repairs even back then. When he wasn't inside, he was prowling every square inch of that building like he was memorizing it, doing projects out back or in the front if they weren't too big or messy. Turned a section of his place into a studio after figuring out where the best light was or how to block it in other spots.”

     “Studio?” she asked, making another note. “Was he an artist?”

     “...I guess you could say that, yeah. He had a really interesting style, kept pouring out work left and right, I was sure he was gonna go pro in one thing or another if only 'cause of how much he kept making. Ambidextrous too, his style'd change dependin' on the hand, and a lot of his jokes were mostly things only we'd be able to understand.. but they were really distinct to him. Did photography too, used to have pictures strung up all over the place after he'd developed them himself. That camera was like his baby, most expensive thing he owned for ages, kept it on the shelf with all the dead stuff.”

     “...Dead stuff?” you asked with a frown.

     “Yeah. Formaldehyde and skeletons and shit. He loved all that junk, kept really clean samples and displays. Never wanted to go in for taxidermy, seemed more interested in the animals whole or what was inside instead'a just looking at the outsides. Not sure if it was a carry over of him learning about paleontology and archaeology in school as a kiddo. Pretty sure it made a lasting impression on whoever saw'em, though,” Bro snorted, looking over when the waitress came back once more with a few trays in hand. Pizza for himself with a side of onion rings, and burgers for yourself and Jade, both with sides of crispy looking fries. No ranch, but the woman had secured some honey mustard and left it on the tabletop for Bro to open and dole out onto his plate.

     “Do you have any of his work left?” Jade asked. “I'd love to see some of it. Drawings? Photographs?” Maybe be taking a few snapshots of his work, she'd be able to jog some memories for Dave, communicate with him more. If he was into art, perhaps there were art supplies he'd be able to interact with and make things with, have a bit of fun once he got home if he didn't feel like moving on to the afterlife yet.

     “I kept some stuff in boxes over the years. Nowadays, I've only got one in storage. But I do have somethin' else,” he said, and leaned to the side to roll his sleeve up. The tattoo was simple, and it took a moment to understand that you were looking at a stylized face gone soft and slightly blue with passing time. “This guy was one of the characters he made up. After Dave died, went ahead and got it done. ..Seemed fitting.”

     You didn't feel hungry, but you played with your fries and got a few down anyway, wanting to keep the air casual and calm. Your new phone had a nice, clear storage section to keep the picture of the tattoo you snapped safe for later.

     “..So if he moved out when he was eighteen, died when he was nineteen.. I take it that it was really sudden?”

     Bro's hint of a smile faded away and he dropped his sleeve, smoothing the fabric down to hide the face again as if it were something precious to be protected and hidden from the outside world.

     “Yeah. Crazy sudden. It's not really anything you can plan for, y'know?” he said. “He never showed any kinda signs or anything, but apparently if he'd joined into sports it might've happened even sooner, or maybe might've gotten caught.”

     Jade leaned forward curiously, and made another quiet note.

     “Signs of what?” you asked, finally ready to learn what happened.

     “He.. He had somethin' with his heart near as anyone could guess afterward. Can catch it sometimes nowadays in some cases, but he didn't show anything wrong when he was little or anything like you'd think there'd prolly be. They said he went into an arrhythmia and that spun into a full on cardiac arrest. Ever seen that shit on the news, people in sports or teenagers suddenly going down without any warning? Same thing. Dunno if there was a defect somewhere in the heart for sure or not, medicine wasn't as advanced as it is now and they couldn't find anything specific back then. It was in the back yard of the building, in summer. One second he was up and we were sparrin', putting each other through some paces and working up a sweat. I was sure he was gonna beat my ass that time, kid got even faster than he used to be. Next thing I know he went down like a sack of bricks and stopped breathing, face went all blue.”

     “I've seen those reports, yeah. ..CPR didn't work?” Jade guessed, speaking up when you'd gone completely silent, stomach giving another nauseating twist. “I don't know about cardiac problems, would that have even helped?”

     He shook his head and stirred his drink, looking like he'd lost his appetite as well.

     “Nope. I tried, though. Who wouldn't try? Screamed my fuckin' head off for someone to call 911, didn't have cellphones back then, didn't wanna stop trying to get his heart going till someone got there to help. When help finally got there, they tried too. Couldn't manage it even with everything they brought in their kits, and it'd been too long by then too, so.. they called it. Took him away.” Bro's voice was quiet. “Still feels like my fault. Kept that shit out of the paper, wasn't their fuckin' business. Most there was would be a little blurb of an obituary a few lines long, and I know his friends did some kinda gathering or party to celebrate him on their own time. Basic ass funeral, couldn't afford much more.”

     “You said there was no way you could've known, though,” you pointed out. “He didn't have any sign something was wrong, right?”

     “He'd fainted once or twice over the months beforehand but we thought he was just dehydrated or somethin'. Kid drank more soda and juice than water, was always a struggle to make him drink much else. ..Still. I keep wondering how much longer he'd have lived with that tickin' time bomb if I'd never sparred with him that day. Or ever, even. I fucked up a lot, it might've made it worse every time without me knowing. Pushed him way too hard as a kid, I fought him like I'd fight with an adult, busted his ass more times than I wanna admit to while teaching him shit. I didn't.. I didn't know jack fuckin' shit about raising a kid or being around kids, but I can't undo any of that and it's stupid to sit and wonder what would've changed if I hadn't done any of it 'cause I can't undo it or take it back now. If he hadn't keeled over with me he'd probably have died on the job lifting something heavy too many times in a row, or in the middle of hookin' up with someone,” he mumbled, but he didn't seem to be convincing himself much with his words.

     “..I'm sorry to ask this, but I wasn't sure and now I definitely can't tell. Was Dave your brother? Or your son?”

     Bro's face twisted again.

     “Dave was a surprise I wasn't anticipatin' or ready for, if that answers your question. I'd prefer to leave it at that, thanks.”

     Jade nodded and scribbled a bit more in her notebook with a quiet sound. “Sorry, won't pry on that then, got it.”

     “S'fine, not like you'd have any way of knowing. I keep my shit pretty private for a reason, and everyone calls me Bro. He did too.”

     “Was Dave buried locally?” she asked, wanting to get a look at the stone.

     “Cremated, and there's a little stone with his info on it. Gonna go in the same plot when I go someday, already got everything worked out and set up ahead of time. Not much to see there though. Basic. Things were still tight. I keep it clean, put some flowers and things he liked on it once in a while, but I know he's not there. If he was, he'd be bitching at me for not bringing better music when I turn up probably.”

     “What was his favorite kind of music?” Jade pressed. Things Dave liked. Things that made him happy. Any of this information was just as useful, if not more, than learning how he had died. You weren't sure what you'd do without Jade there right then, keeping clear enough to keep moving forward instead of free floating like you were right then.

     You wanted to cry. You wanted to find Dave even more now, talk to him about this, make him feel welcome, never leave him behind again so long as he wanted to stay. No wonder he hadn't talked about it. If he did remember, it was traumatic, too sudden to even think about. Unfair. Entirely unfair. Maybe even painful. If he didn't remember.. that made sense too. You reasoned that you'd be upset not being able to remember how you died as well.

     The pendant hadn't been in your car, hadn't been at the hospital, and you had no leads on where the fuck to even start looking for him now. The most you had of Dave aside from an empty apartment, the data you'd gathered in the past, and the new picture was the jellyfish plush he'd picked out at the aquarium that now rested on your bedspread awaiting his return.

     Everything felt bleakly empty all at once, rushing up like a slap to the face, and you stopped being able to listen to the conversation clearly.

     “..You said weird shit was goin' on though, linked to Dave, and that's why you were asking all these things. What kind of weird shit,” Bro asked again suddenly, apparently a bit more willing to speak and listen now that the scab had been peeled back and the raw wound beneath thoroughly gouged till it went numb again.

     “...Please, don't be upset. But we think.. potentially, maybe, he might still be around,” Jade finally said in a rush. “Or at least some part of him might be. We wanted to learn about him, see if it really was him, see why he was still there.”

     Bro stared, and looked like he might leave at the very notion. His hand reached for his shades and he pulled them on, sharp and dark, making him look much more severe despite the comical appearance they lent at first glance.

     He didn't get up, though.

     Instead, he stared hard at Jade, then towards you and your miserable expression, waiting in silence on his side of the tabletop as if awaiting some sign.

     “..If it's him, tell him to find the light however he can, so he can stop hangin' around. If he's hanging around because of me, tell him I said the same. He deserves better. If he's hanging around for some other reason.. I guess try and find why so he can go.”

     “And if he wanted to stay?” Jade asked. “..If he wanted to stay, would you want to say something else to him?”

     “No,” Bro said. “Because he'd have to be out of his damned mind to want to stay down here when he could be moving on to somewhere better. It'd suck to be all excited to see him again someday only to find he missed the fuckin' bus to hang around on Earth alone.”

     “Right,” you said. “I get it. Got it. Is there any way we can see the box you have in storage?” you asked. “I'll leave you alone after this if you'd prefer. Drop contact, won't bring it up anymore. Won't bring him up anymore. You've answered all our questions so far, you've been a huge help.”

     “..Yeah. Yeah, I could let you paw through that box. You'd need to come by where it's stored though,” he said. “It ain't too far, if you don't mind following me to it. I'd offer to just drive you but with how shit is these days, I know that would go over like a lead balloon.”

     “We'll go,” you said automatically, and Jade nudged you. You nudged her back with your foot. You were sure you could both trust this guy. It was Dave's family after all, and that little bond was still stringing you along like a security blanket while he was gone. The chance to see more things that Dave had seen, maybe touch things he'd touched, was appealing in his absence. “Let's eat or grab some boxes and go.”

     A bit surprised by the sudden agreement, Bro blinked and nodded. Right. Food was there. That was a good idea.

     “Sure thing.”

 


	13. Overlap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Jade had finally met with Dave's brother and learned more about him, but there's still more to learn hidden in a box Bro keeps in storage. What kinds of items might prove useful to connect with Dave more when you can finally get him home? Will there be ways to help him find the light if he wanted to?
> 
> \- - - -
> 
> After a no good, very bad, awful fucking luck day, you want nothing more than to kick back and blast some high level monsters while having a drink and dinner. The icing on your terrible cake is given to you courtesy of the thing that is living in your apartment, which seems to be far more real than you'd ever wanted to believe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original tumblr post: http://themockingcrows.tumblr.com/post/169871491577

     The drive had been a shorter one than you'd imagined, though the numbers on the odometer crept up bit by bit as Jade tailed after Bro's vehicle, speeding up as needed to catch up when stop lights or the light traffic got in the way. Your mind couldn't stop racing, and the pressure in your chest wouldn't fade. It was a strange feeling, one you weren't able to put words to.

     So much information had been gained, and there were so many things you wanted to try talking to Dave about, wanted to tell him even if it was only in your dreams for ease of conversation. Questions to ask him if he even remembered anything. You knew how he died now, you'd met his father, his family, you had the missing links on what had originally trapped him in the apartment even if you weren't entirely certain if he'd be able to move on after learning. This was all a guessing game.

     You were going to be touching things that belonged to Dave soon, things he'd made. Drawings, photos, some kind of belongings that were even more tangible than the image you'd seen of him in your apartment.

     ..That it. That's what felt so strange. Dave being missing was the only thing that was worrying you now. The meeting had gone well, things were positive, but there was no Dave waiting for you at home to swoop around you with cool touches or to stroke at your face. No Dave to knock your books off the shelves to flip your pizza box over, no Dave to kiss and touch you in your dreams.

     “John, come on. Get ready, he just signaled out the window. We're almost there,” Jade said loudly enough to catch your attention. “Stop spacing out, we're almost done.”

     “Wha-? Oh. ..Right. Yeah, sorry,” you mumbled, looking around more clearly now to take in your surroundings, and frowning. This was a pretty trashy place to have a storage unit.. but at least it all looked sturdy. The truck slowed to a halt in front of them, leaving room for Jade to press on the brakes and give you space on your side to get out with the crutches. You grunted, shifting the weight onto your palms, already sure you could feel the bruising spread, and turned your palm upwards to look at it, the lighting strange and yellowish from the janky looking hooded street lights that speckled the lots that came on prematurely and the lowering natural light. Yep. Bruises.

     You heard the jingle of keys before a metallic grating sound croaked out to your left and hupped into motion, gliding a few large swinging hops to get around the car and towards the unit that was being cracked open. Bro was still in a crouch with the fat opened lock in one hand, shoving the folding door upwards on its guiding track before he stood upright to pull the rest of the way up, knees giving a loud crack like gunshots. He didn't react in the slightest.

     The storage unit wasn't the biggest Jade or you had ever seen, but it held a number of items. Boxes and crates with neat lettering and dates were the closest up items, as well as boxes and boxes of what looked like plushies in sterile plastic coverings, tags sticking out of their deformed looking feet. You were fairly sure one said Smuppet, but squinting could only get you so far from that distance, swinging up behind the man as he shuffled some of the boxes and crates out of the way, thumping them down on an old sofa to reach the back edge of the unit and more hidden boxes and plastic trash bags. A lifetime of goods and things too precious to get rid of had been reduced to one good sized, aged looking cardboard box without a label. There was no mistaking what it must be, though.

     Bro brought it out towards the clearer light and set it down on the ground before turning to make busy work for himself, shuffling some of the contents of the unit around, organizing things. Cleaning. Deciding which of the smuppets to take back with him while he was out here, and seeing if he needed any of the items in the records boxes or not.

     “Knock yourselves out, but be careful not to break anything. ...You can keep some of the stuff in there.”

     “I. No, we couldn't possibly do that,” you said immediately, but Bro glanced over his shoulder.

     “Why not. It's sittin' and gathering dust in here. Some of the things I'm gonna refuse, obviously, but.. some of the things you can take. I don't see the harm if it'll serve some kinda purpose more than being another cardboard box I refuse to get rid of on my own.”

     Biting your lip, you let Jade crouch down and dig for you, carefully sorting through the treasures that Bro had salvaged and clung to for so long. They were varied and in some ways would probably look like garbage to the untrained eye, but each item was obviously kept for specific reasons. The top items were drawings that ranged from early childhood to adulthood judging from the execution, both cartoons and realism being on offer. There was a distinctive style to everything that just screamed _Dave_ even to you that despite never seeing these things before you felt nostalgic. Had you seen shades of them in a dream before? Some kind of projection from Dave..? One piece looked like a self portrait, while others were obviously sketches of Bro, of objects from his daily life, from their shared home when he was younger. Pages of swords and weaponry and strangely shaped objects that reminded you of concept art from movies more than anything finished.

     “Oh..! Wait, Jade what's that one?” you asked, spotting something red.

     “What, this?” she asked, carefully moving some books and odds and ends off of a t-shirt. A second one fell out of it when she lifted the item up, a small children's shirt with a pink heart in the center of it. The red that had caught your eye belonged on a red and white raglan shirt marked with the symbol of a spinning record in a pixel style, perfectly laundered and pressed before it had been folded and tucked into place at the bottom of the box. There was a faint stain, barely visible, down near the bottom hem and it looked soft and well worn with the gentle fade it had developed. You caught Bro looking over at the discovery, hands still moving but none of his focus on what he was touching or sorting anymore, moving by muscle memory so he could keep an eye on everything.

     “Oh. That, uh. ..Those were his favorites,” Bro announced. “Kid had a lot of clothes but he kept gravitating to that pink shirt till I had to replace it a few times, and when he got older it was the same with that record one. Just wore'm till they fell apart at the seams and it made more sense to get a new one made up for him than spend the time and effort of repairing the old one.”

     “Can we.. I mean, can I possibly take this one?” you ask, knowing you'd be pressing your luck even if the man had already said it was okay to take things, give them purpose again, more than just sitting in a carton gathering dust. To your surprise, he nodded.

     “Go for it. But I'm keepin' the one with the heart,” he insisted. “I've got scans of the drawings saved, and the more special ones're at home still. Don't go takin' all of'em, but if a few caught your eye enough then go ahead.”

     Jade hummed and sorted things on her own, trying to select a few distinctive pieces in different styles and probable ages, wanting to see if the reaction to any of them was stronger with Dave. ..Well. Whenever you could find him again at least. The memory that this might all be a fruitless endeavor was a worrisome one that wouldn't leave you be, wouldn't give you peace.

     “I think this one, maybe?” she asked, holding up the sketches of Bro before gesturing to the self portrait and the cartoony drawings that matched Bro's tattoo he bore now. “And these. The rest are kind of more of the same, or are really general. But these have a personal tie to them. Maybe enough for some recognition?”

     “Mmm,” you hum in agreement. Your heart wasn't in the task anymore, focus drifting.

     “John. Come on, head out of the clouds for maybe five minutes? We're finally here! I mean look at these,” she said, plunging her hands into the box before coming up with a broken sword that still seemed to have a little bit of sharpness to the spot above the guard, as well as a much patched version of the plush toys you already saw living in the other crates. It was different however, more rounded, and when Jade squeezed too hard it gently squeaked like a slow wheeze. “Hey, isn't this like those other things?” she asked, gesturing the toy around.

     “Oh, yeah. That was kinda a prototype I guess,” Bro said, coming closer finally and snagging one of the plastic bound plushies as he went, holding it beside the toy Jade held to show the differences. The old toy had a broader, softer nose, more defined hands and feet, and a different type of fluff for hair. The newer toy also lacked a squeaker. “You've prolly seen these all over while you were trying to contact me, but this one wasn't used like that obviously. Kid dragged it around and kept chewing on it when he was really small. .I uh. I'd prefer if you didn't take this one either,” Bro added.

     “Oh, no, I assumed not,” she promised. “Can I take a picture, though?”

     “Yeah. Here, come out by the light more, it's clearer,” Bro said, setting the plastic wrapped smuppet down and walking with her nearer to the light source, holding it up so she could raise her phone and take a few quick snaps at different angles to show and highlight the different features.

     While Jade and Bro were briefly lost in talking about the fabrics the toy was made of, and some more memories Bro recalled based around the item, you glanced to the shirt and bent to scoop it up again. Without even thinking you took a brief sniff, catching detergent and the vague must of something left in all kinds of temperatures in cardboard in a room. There was something else there though, and just from being in proximity to Bro you couldn't be certain it was from him. ..Was that a trace of Dave? Or what Dave once was, at least?

     Jade touched your shoulder, startling you hard enough that you wobbled and had to be braced with one of her hands, wide eyed and clung tight to the shirt as if dropping it would deposit it into a pile of lava.

     “Hey. I think this is about the best we can make off with from the box. How about we pull on in and see about getting home? It'd be good to get your leg up,” she said, expression a little hard to read. ..Well. She _did_ just catch you sniffing a dead guy's t-shirt like a creep, so perhaps there was some things you didn't really want to hear or think about in there too.

     Whoops.

     You pulled your phone out to check the time after handing the shirt over to Jade, humming a bit.

     “..Yeah. You might be right, and it's a long drive back, too.” Your hand buzzed briefly before the loud ringtone started blaring to life, a remixed theme from a favorite movie that was a little too light on the bass but just perfect enough to get your attention no matter what. “Hang on, sorry,” you said, taking the call without a second thought when you recognized the number.

     “John?” came Rose's clear voice through the speaker. “Are you free right now?”

     “Yeah, just about. There's a lot of things we need to talk about when I get back home, we've found out so many things now that we're past those dead ends,” you said, shuffling your balance to lean against a crutch and steady yourself.

     “Later,” she insisted. “How far away from home are you right now?”

     “Couple hours?” you said instinctively before looking to Jade for confirmation. “How far out are we?”

     “Couple cities,” she said. “Hour and a half, two hours and change? Maybe little more depending on traffic and stuff, stopping for gas and snacks.. but I don't think that'll be that big of an issue when we get closer to home. Just slip in the back route, take the low streets and coast on up.”

     Bro was coming to tidy up the box while Jade took the things you had all agreed on and set them gently into a tote bag for safe keeping, not wanting to wrinkle or crinkle anything unduly while the older man was working on grabbing a few things he decided he did want to bring home with him after gently replacing the closed box of Dave's belongings back safe and sound in the deepest part of the unit.

     “Yeah, about that,” you said. “Not terribly far. Why?”

     “There's been some potential issues that we need to discuss immediately. Preferably right now, if you're in a space signal won't cut out if you're driving at the same time back this direction and past it.”

     “..Uh. Why past it? Rose, come on, my leg's aching already, can we skip the twenty questions and get to the point? If it can wait I'll get to it after getting home and resting a bit.”

     “John, it has to do with Dave.”

 

\- - - - - - - - -

 

     Your day had been, bluntly put, garbage. While it was your own fault for not sleeping prior to rushing out to go to work, you're fairly sure that didn't mean the entire world needed to gang up on you just to prove a point about how bad things could pile up on one person's shoulders. From the second you left the house again, weird shit had been happening. The entire day, bad luck had trailed after you and dogged you relentlessly, there was no escaping it it felt like. One moment it was dropping your keys in a nasty puddle, the next it was manifesting as you dropping your phone and having it bounce off the curb, gaining a massive crack across the screen. It held on to life for a moment, flashed the background image a few times, then gave up the ghost and went black and unresponsive. Something inside had probably been jostled.. but you hoped it wouldn't be too bad.

     It was, it turned out. After a soul crushing day at work, every possible inconvenience possible getting in your way left and right while more and more menial tasks were dropped on your lap by co-workers who made you want nothing more than to abandon this job and find another again, you went to see about obtaining a replacement or a repair only to realize the model your warranty covered wasn't available there right then. You weren't going to die without a phone for a few days till the replacement came in (like fuck were you shelling out for an upgrade right now), if anyone needed your time so desperately they could just email you or hit you up wherever they saw you online. Everyone that mattered had your contact information. You weren't exactly a secretive person.

     Your back right tire went flat and took time to change into the spare. Another fucking expense and annoyance. The place you wanted to get dinner from was absolutely packed, the backup had closed early due to a pipe bursting in the kitchen (goodbye tasty quick meals for the next week at fucking least), and the next backup just.. wasn't that appetizing when you peeked at it in the car. You'd have to reheat it, if you didn't mind seeing the grease turn opaque and stiff on those deliciously saucy chicken wings. ..All considered though, it was the least of your problems entirely. You could handle using the microwave for a few minutes to feed yourself properly, but there needed to be a delightfully fruity drink to accompany the spicy sweet sauce your fingers would soon be drenched with.

     Your cat greeted you at the door, rubbing forcefully around your tired ankles and feet, doing everything in his power to alleviate the worst of the badness radiating off of you.

     “Oh, baby, did you miss me..? Hmmm? Let's get you a snack. Such a good boy, you deserve a treat,” you cooed, slipping into a sweet singsong tone while juggling your bag and your food to avoid dropping it. The day might have sucked copious amounts of dick, but at least the night would be good. You had spicy chicken wings, you were going to have a nice drink, the best cat in the world was going to cuddle you and lay on your lap, and you were going to whip some ass the second you logged into your older account for your favorite MMO. You'd more or less retired it some time back aside from events, too high a level to be as much fun as building new ones up.. but right now you didn't feel like grinding or exploring new places. You felt like settling down, getting a little wasted, burning your fucking mouth off and blasting some massive creatures to Hell and back with your pinky finger.

     Nothing like a little power trip to make a girl feel right as rain.

     Or, well. That was the plan at least. On the way from getting down some fish shaped kibble treats for your beloved pet to setting up your action station in bed for maximum comfort following the plan of essential pants removal, you spotted and smelled the problem. The screen of your computer was black and empty instead of displaying the completed log of the earlier task you had assigned it to run, or even the screen saver. The air held a strange smell of burning plastic and uncomfortably hot metal. There was no cute pixelated cat wizards waving their staffs in sight.. just darkness and a silence that made you feel more dread than usual. This felt different from times Mutini had unplugged your setup or walked on the keyboard the wrong way seeking its warmth, something was.. different.

     “Fffffffffffffuck,” you hiss, immediately going to check the power plug. The strip's light was out, overloaded, and you were thankful it hadn't wiped out the power to the rest of the apartment with it or worst case scenario started a fire or something else awful. You tried to plug the cord directly into the wall with no results, and after frantically scooping up the beloved device and taking the plug into the living room to a fresh socket, you couldn't get the laptop to turn on. You ran to get the small screwdriver to pry the back open, tripped over your own feet and swore when you felt your ankle trying to roll beneath you, before coming back and yanking the computer's bottom open after unplugging it again.

     The battery felt hot and was distorted strangely, damaged. You carefully removed it and set it aside, only to drown at the visible parts you could see here and there. Wires were damaged as well, melted, the delicate multicolored boards looked warped and wavy like someone had run the entire unit through a microwave. Burnt plastic singed your nostrils and you were again thankful that a fire hadn't broken out and ruined your apartment or killed your cat.

     This was the icing on the cake of a very bad day, and you were so certain nothing could make it worse. What was left, really? Break your ankle for real? Burn yourself in the shower? You wanted to sit down and cry, felt the tears stinging at your eyes already, but you wouldn't allow them to fall till they overflowed the dam of your eyelashes, streaking the makeup you still needed to wash off that only smudged more when you reached up to rub at your face with your hand and forearm.

     It was times like these that you wished you didn't live alone. ..Well. Okay, Mutini was there and did a very important job while living with you, but it wasn't quite the same as a pair of arms to hug you tight when the entire world felt like it was out to get you.

     Mutini approached you from the hallway, tail up and swaying gently, a friendly meow on his furry lips that quickly turned to a startled hiss as something spooked him. Or someone. When his tail bottle brushed and he tore off to your bedroom again as if chased by monsters, you knew for sure that's what it was. Your resident Casper.

     “I don't _need_ this right now,” you groaned, a throb starting up in your head. No phone, no computer, the stress relief you wanted most wasn't happening, and now your cat was being terrified again. There was no such thing as ghosts, not really, but this was really starting to get on your nerves because there was no logical explanation for or around what was happening in the slightest.

     Hell, might as well start blaming all the weird luck on the ghost! Not like your luck had improved lately, it'd just gotten worse. Socks thrown everywhere, cat too scared to relax in its own apartment anymore, now everything bad happening outside the house too?

     … If that were true though, maybe that was something you could at least do instead of feeling so angry and powerless. A way to fix it, or help with it. Something you could actively attempt to do to get some control back in your life, or at least reclaim the total comfort in your home that was apparently under attack while the space outside was more hostile and unpredictable. You deserved your castle to be yours, right?

     Rose had always chattered on about the different kinds of spirits she supposedly talked to and knew and noticed, and while it had made a good story you were never sure of just how real you could even imagine any of these things before. Of course, that hadn't stopped you from learning and memorizing the things she talked about, though you weren't certain you could spell them or pronounce them properly. They were different from the made up names of wizards and beasts in your games and books, the writing and role playing you indulged in. These names felt old, powerful. Threatening in some cases.

     This didn't seem like it was some big threatening demon, though. No, whatever was in your apartment being a nuisance was something else. At worst, a poltergeist, at best some kind of random spooky thing that decided to move in. You wished you could go online or give Rose a call, ask her the best ways to get rid of ghosts for sure, or how best to clear your home.. but surely winging it could do some good as well.

     “Alright you wispy motherfucker, time for you to leave,” you said resolutely to the open air as you got up off the couch and kicked your shoes off. They thudded the wall one at a time, leading to your neighbor to angrily thump against the wall as well and holler something that you ignored with a roll of your eyes. It was evening, yes, but it's not like it was the middle of the night, they could regain their lost chill on their own time. Off went your pants next, the long sleeved top less comfortable now, and on came the fluffy pink plaid pajamas and black tank top with glittery stars all over it, the soft slippers.

     You strode to your kitchen and yanked open the fridge, pulling out a hard lemonade and cranking it open with the bottom hem of your t-shirt and a determined hand, draining half the bottle in a few aggressive slurps before looking more determined.

     “Okay. Think. Think movies'n stuff, what works.. Salt,” you mutter, setting the bottle down to rummage in the cabinet over top of the stove, tugging out a big blue bottle with a silvery pour spout. This seemed like time for the big gun instead of the little shaker. “I dunno how to bless water or nothin'. ..Shit, what else works. Silver. Uhhh... All'a those crystals do something weird. Garlic? No, that's vampires, come on this isn't Supernatural, focus Roxy!”

     Okay. Maybe you were getting ahead of yourself. This place hadn't had a single bit of ghostly activity before recently. No slamming doors, no cold spots, nothing that sounded like the extra tracks on a cheesy documentary about active hauntings in rural Who-The-Fuck-Cared. Something changed.

     It was then that you remembered one of the key plot points in so many movies and tv shows: a lot of hauntings weren't tied to locations, but instead to items. You hadn't gone thrift shopping in a while, hadn't really gotten a penchant for antiques. What was different? What had changed? You pick up your bottle and take a brief swig, letting the fruity liquid run over your tongue before swishing it irritably. Just a few minutes ago you'd been so fired up to reclaim your home and fight back against the bad feelings that had hit an all time high today, but now you were suddenly riddled with uncertainty. Something obvious, it had to be, but you just couldn't think of it and didn't want to risk sitting down and relaxing just in case the memory bit you in the ass at the worst possible time after you'd settled down and tried to rest and relax for the evening.

     You rummaged through your home with a suspicious eye, scrutinizing your belongings closely as if you were using a fine tooth comb for evidence, piling up a few items you'd bought or received that you recalled in the middle of the floor to be individually checked over for some kind of sign. ..Fuck, how could you tell if a hot looking dress was haunted, you were not planning this out very well at all. The pendant, subtle and plain, had almost entirely left your memory till you laid eyes on it with angry eyes.

     Your fingers wrapped around it securely drawing it closer to stare as you marched back to take the last swig of your drink, feeling the need for it. You looked it over in the light more directly, tracing the whorls and patterns, the spots. The faint, fluttering flash of warm red light that erupted from between your closed hand was sudden enough to make you scream and fling it away from you, needing to get the startling item as far away as possible as if it were potentially going to explode. It thumped gently to the floor, skidding a half foot, then went still before the red glow disappeared.

     The ground rushed up to meet your ass as you fell, staring in horror at the pendant, then to the empty bottle. No, there was no way you were buzzed already from a single bottle and so fucking fast. That... ...Had that really happened? Or was that from the lack of sleep? The stress? You used set of tongs to grab the pendant this time, picking it up and dropping it on the counter top, circling it with salt before thudding a colander down over top of the entire space. Out of sight, out of mind.

     “Okay. Okay, so. ...so uh. That's a thing,” you mutter to yourself. Mutini darted in to sniff around, wanting to investigate the threat, and meowed loudly with displeasure when you scooped him up to keep him away from the danger. “But. It's a thing that's gonna wait till I sleep a bit and can get it fixed right.”

     Theoretically, you could just chuck it in the garbage and send it to the dump to be rid of it. You could smash it into a thousand pieces, too, and might do so if you couldn't get rid of whatever was in it. If it didn't cling and attack to you, at least, like in the movies. But the idea of keeping a piece of jewelry that used to be haunted and wasn't anymore, a very pretty piece of jewelry that you'd kept because you enjoyed how it looked after finding it at that, was kind of appealing. A trophy of your accomplishment. You kissed Mutini's head and neck, scritching steadily at his chest and stomach to keep him calm.

     “We are going to go shove a bit of chicken in my face and nap, and then YOU are gettin' cleansed or whatever. Either Rose'll know what to do, or you're gonna get smashed. Hear me? No funny business,” you demanded of the colander. “You leave that thing alone, and it won't scare you no more. It's gonna be gone soon,” you promise, turning out the kitchen light and tiredly heading for the living room, turning the television on with the remote.

     Chicken didn't sound good anymore. No food sounded good at all. Sleep barely even sounded good. How could you sleep while there was something in the house for real?!

     Fairly easily, it turned out. After eating half the chicken and licking your fingers clean, you set an alarm and collapsed into bed, sleeping deep and heavy. Your dreamt of your house being ghost free again, yourself with a Ghostbuster outfit on, and everyone you had a crush on swooning for your bravery while defeating the demon in the pendant like something straight out of a blockbuster film.

     It was a good, undisturbed few hours.

 


End file.
